


Dark Horse

by ViiA01



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, BAMF Haruno Sakura, F/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-04-26 17:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 29,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViiA01/pseuds/ViiA01
Summary: Shisui was playing a dangerous game.She was the object of his uncle's obsession, the Pink Haired Witch to the West. Immortal and dangerous, she was the epitome of everything Madara could not have.And all he could think, was that her eyes were stunning when she smiled.





	1. Perfect Storm

**Author's Note:**

> It's a crack ship, one of my favourite things.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story, nor do I profit from this wor

Chapter One: A Perfect Storm

He knows what she is.

She isn't human, just a little to light on her feet, eyes just a little too bright, skin just a little too perfect.

But goddamn if she isn't most stunning creature he'd ever laid eyes on. Her attire is scandalous, a dress much too short, white, virginal and pure in the moonlight. He can see the whole line of her leg, the skin bare to the thigh.

She is barefoot, eyes almost glowing in the moonlight, hair just brushing her chin. His horse shifts under him, nervous.

He stills the beast with a touch.

"Why did you come here?" She asks, fingertips trailing over the long grass. He tracks her stride easily, eyes spinning red. She doesn't seem to notice, or care about his strange, demonic eyes.

He tilts his head, messy locks falling over the pale skin of his forehead. "I come to ask aid."

"The Uchiha don't ask for help."

"I'm not like the others."

She smiles at his words, a sad, secretive smile. He does not like it. It does not suit her. "That was what the last one said. Tell me, are you also a liar?"

The breeze that blows at her words is cold, chilling and he is suddenly very aware of how far from home he is.

"No." He answers, voice clear and strong. "I am many things; a liar is not one of them."

She seems to skip forward, as if she is blinking in and out of sight too fast for him to see. The horse under him prances away from her hand, the war beast highly strung, tense, afraid.

He brings it under control once more. Even though she has to tilt her head back to see his face, his horse many hands high, he gets the distinct feeling that she in control of this situation.

"Many things." She murmurs, reaching forward to touch the warm flank of his stead. "No, you are a killer, a murderer, a thief and a criminal. But not a liar apparently. _Strange_ , for you to draw the line there." Her eyes are piercing, accusing.

He does not cower away from her gaze. He knows what he is.

"I will not pretend to be something I am not." He says.

She cocks her head to the side. "You don't fear my judgement?"

He doesn't. He doesn't care what she thinks of him. He knows what he is, what he has done. He does not take pride in it, but he will not shy away from the acts he's committed, to do so would be to dishonour them. "I come to ask aid." He repeats.

She accepts the letter he hands her. Her eyes are bright as she reads, catching the bright moonlight in a way that makes his breath catch in his chest. He knows that is part of what makes her so dangerous, knows that she is meant to draw in men like him.

"You want me to help a killer." She says, rolling the scroll back up. Her fingers are slender, long, delicate things. He has seen what those hands can do, has seen the scars she left on his ancestral home, on the grounds by the gardens and the dungeons.

"I want you to heal him." He says and for the first time, he hears the desperation in his voice. "He is the best chance for this land, to end this suffering."

She stares at the dark trees. "Long ago, an ancestor of yours attempted to tame me." She says, voice faraway. "He came to me, much like you, in the dead of night, riding a beast tamed by man. He begged me, forgot his pride and fell to his knees and begged for the life of his brother."

He listens. He had heard this story so many times, but always from the perspective of a man scorned, a man who had been denied the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world. That man's words had been bitter, filled with anger and longing.

Her words are just quiet resignation.

"I was young then, and I agreed to help. When I arrived on the back of the horse of your ancestor, I healed his younger brother, saved him from the disease that should have killed him. As thanks, your ancestor tried to lock me in chains, tried to keep in me a cell made from mud and rock." Her eyes are back on him, burning with rage. "They took what did not belong to them."

He looks at her back, having seen the wings his ancestor had stolen all those years ago. He imagines the beautiful wings curved over her shoulder, imagines how the silver and gold strands might catch the moonlight.

"Why should I help you, a descendant of the man who kept me trapped, who stole my wings, my freedom? Tell me." She demands, hand suddenly on the reigns of his horse. The horse prances, but her grip is like iron and he is forced to settle the skittish animal once again.

"Because I'll give them back." He says.

Her eyes go wide, lips parting in shock.

"I have seen them. They hang in my uncle's room, above his bed. When you have healed Naruto, I'll give them back to you." He promises, and he means it. He has always hated those wings, hated that their brilliance is hidden from the world, tucked away in the darkness of his uncle's home.

"He will kill you." She murmurs, taking a step back. Her eyes are apprehensive now, but there is a spark of hope there.

"So be it." He says. "I cannot let Madara continue to rule over this land with an iron fist. The people are suffering, Naruto can change that."

Her face is unreadable. Finally, she relaxes her grip on the reigns of his horse. "You are a killer, a murderer, a thief and a criminal." Her voice is not accusing this time, but rather, thoughtful. "But you are not a liar, are you, Uchiha Shisui?"


	2. Playing With Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story, nor do I profit from this work.

It doesn't take long for her to gather her things. She leaves the field, with a promise to return. And she does, dressed more sensibly now, in dark traveling pants and boots, a red shirt peeking through the thin green cloak she wears. She carries a small satchel and Shisui sees the gleam of a dagger on her hip.

He kneels, lacing his fingers together to help her onto Kuro's back. She is light and graceful as she pulls herself up.

But she is clearly uncomfortable, hands wavering uselessly over the leather saddle. Shisui swings himself up behind her, ignoring the tenseness in her coiled muscles, the stiffening of her spine.

"Kuro won't let you fall." He says, tapping the horn of the saddle in front of her. She holds it gingerly. "He is very stable."

She says nothing to him, back still stiff.

They travel only at night, for Shisui is better able to hide their trail, their presence with the shadows wrapped around them. He pushes Kuro hard, perhaps too hard, the beautiful animal unhappy and exhausted.

They spend the first three days in uneasy silence. She is always stiff as a board in the circle of his arms and he does his best not to touch her. He had heard Madara's story about her many times, knows that his uncle will never admit that he had gone too far the night she had escaped.

So, while he knows he is not Madara, he is also acutely aware that his resemblance to the man, however faint, is still noticeable.

It is when he is making their meal before setting out on the fourth night, that she finally speaks.

"Why?" She asks. "You are one of his Generals. If I heal this Naruto, then you would have aided in a rebellion."

Shisui looks up from the meal he is preparing. It is nothing fancy, just hard bread and roasted rabbit. "I am General in name only." He says, a sarcastic smirk on his face. "I give no orders."

He looks at the sky for a moment, thinking. "As for the rebellion... As I said before, Madara cannot be allowed to continue his war mongering. Naruto can end this, take his rightful place on the throne. Lead this country back to peace."

"If you are a General in name only, then Madara does not trust you?" She asks, mouth disapproving.

She is perceptive, and Shisui wonders how often her naive appearance had allowed her to fool people into thinking she is stupid and childlike. "Indeed. He allows me the title so he can keep an eye on me. He likes to keep his descendants close." He shakes his head. "He is paranoid that we will usurp his power one day, might mount a civil war for the throne." He says, voice acidic.

She cocks her head thoughtfully, book in hand. Shisui wonders where she had hidden it, since she only had a thin traveling cloak and small satchel. "So why not just kill you then?"

He had wondered that as a child as well. Surely Madara, a shrewd warrior and tactician would foresee the risk of keeping so many powerful descendants alive. The Uchiha clan was no stranger to infanticide, or even patricide, so, why did Madara allow them to live?

Shisui had found the answer in a dusty, old tome, hidden in the darkest corner of the library by magic and powerful seals.

The secret to Madara's longevity.

Not godhood as his uncle liked to claim, but rather dark magic born from a blood soaked history and a hunger for power. Shisui knew now that he and his cousins were Madara's spare parts, a new set of eyes, lungs, a new body altogether.

That was the reason Obito had 'gone missing' on a routine mission, why Madara had returned from the front, hair cut short and face just a little too round.

It was also the reason that Madara kept Itachi and Sasuke so close.

The brothers were a carbon copy of Madara and Izuna at the same age. Sasuke's body powerful and young and Itachi's mind unparalleled.

And it was also why Shisui was allowed a modicum of freedom.

His eyes were too powerful to lie dormant and Madara needed him to unlock their power before the Uchiha Patriarch took them for himself.

She is staring at him across the fire, face curious.

"He needs us." He says shortly. "He isn't an immortal, not truly, not like the Great Sannin, but he has found a way to cheat death by using his descendants as… spares."

Her mouth curls in revulsion and horror. "He takes your bodies as his own?" She asks him, eyes bright and hard.

Shisui looks at the now burnt rabbit. "Death frightens him."

"So, this is also for your own sakes, then." She says, but there is no judgement in her words, only understanding. Shisui thinks she might be the only person to understand the horror of what Madara had done, is planning to do. His uncle covets her power as well, had tried to take it years ago.

He says nothing, pulling the rabbit apart with careful fingers. He offers her a plate of hard bread and burnt meat, but she doesn't complain.

"Will he take your body?" She asks, morbidly curious.

Shisui knows that Madara has considered it. Out of all his cousins, Shisui is the tallest, the most physically imposing, but also knows that Madara had discounted him on account of their builds being too dissimilar, of it raising too many unwanted questions.

"No. He will take Sasuke or Itachi." He says. "Sasuke is most likely, he is the baby of the family after all." He shoves a bite of rabbit into his mouth, the topic making him feel uneasy.

She seems to notice his discomfort and doesn't ask him any more questions, instead eating her dinner quietly.

They eat in silence and then Shisui packs everything away, readying them for another night of monotonous plodding. Kuro is unhappy and shows it by stepping on Shisui's toes as Shisui straps the saddle back on.

Shisui scolds his mischievous horse, giving the animal a fond scratch as he does. Kuro just huffs and goes back to mouthing at the grass.

She is staring at him with a strange look in her eyes when he turns to boost her into the saddle.

As he settles behind her and urges Kuro into movement, she speaks again.

"You have not asked my name."

Shisui stares over her head as Kuro trots along. "Names are power, are they not?"

She hums, playing with the slack leather of the reigns in his hands. "They are, but you were not afraid to show me your name when we first met." She pauses, head turning ever so slightly to stare up at him. Shisui feels a little pinned by her gaze.

He isn't quite sure what she wants him to say.

"You may call me Sakura." She says as she turns back to face the front.

_Sakura_.

A fitting name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno where I'm going with this.
> 
> Let me know what you think, friendos.


	3. Like A Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shisui waxes lyrical about Sakura.   
> That's the whole chapter.
> 
> Let me know what you think guys, I do like to read your reviews and if you have any criticism or suggestions on improvements, please let me know.

Shisui finds his eyes straying to her more than he would like.

They had retired after a good night's ride. Kuro is exhausted, and a warm, heavy weight at Shisui's back as the proud animal rests for the day.

Their conversation the night previous had obviously spooked her. She had been even more closed off than before, her face blank as she settled down to sleep in the little copse of trees he had found for them.

Even now, as Shisui prepares their dinner again, hastily scaled fish and more hard bread, she is still distant.

He looks up from the fish, disliking the blankness to her expression.

It looks almost unnatural on her. She has a dramatic face, with deep set eyes and a plush mouth, features that lend themselves more to mischief or joy than blank indifference. It reminds Shisui of the women in the capital, cowed and exhausted by Madara's endless wars, their faces youthful but their eyes jaded and cold.

He hates the women in the capital.

He remembers when they used to laugh, smile, sing.

Now they are silent and say nothing as they wait for their husbands, sons, brothers, to be called off to the front. He wants to grab them by the shoulders, shake them and shout for them to fight like they did when Madara first proposed this war with the Senju. But the last time they had rallied, the streets had run red with their blood and Shisui will not see it happen again.

So, he must watch them grow paler, and colder, and more and more resigned.

"I think the fish is dead." Sakura says suddenly, startling him.

Shisui looks up at her, but she is focused on her book, hair tucked behind her ear. He looks down at the fish and sees that he has mangled it beyond recognition. The scales, silver and tiny, litter the ground near his knees.

Sighing, Shisui sets the fish aside and moves to stake the other fish. He resigns himself to chewing on stale bread for dinner.

The fish cooks quickly, but some of the delicate flesh is still charred when he removes it from the fire. He has never been a particularly good cook, too prone to distraction or outright forgetfulness to prepare anything more intricate than simple meals.

Sakura does not seem to notice, or care, taking the plate with a quiet word of thanks.

Shisui picks at his own hunk of unappetizing bread, knowing that in a few hours, his stomach will ache. He ignores the stale taste, and almost as if against his will, his eyes are again pulled back to her.

Madara had talked of her almost magnetic beauty. Shisui had just thought it the stories of an obsessed and scorned man.

But as he sits opposite her, the fire reflected in her eyes and her pink haired turned golden red by the flames, Shisui can see why his uncle had called her bewitching.

She is.

He finds himself fascinated by the way her hair uncurls itself from behind her ear, the way it brushes the skin of her cheek.

They don't have such colours in the capital.

Shisui has travelled most of the continent, but never before has he seen such a vibrant colour. Golden, fiery red, black so dark it looks almost blue, but never pink.

It should look ridiculous.

But it doesn't.

It should make her look weak, naïve, childlike.

But it doesn't.

Instead, the short strands frame her face in a way that draws attention to her best features, highlight the strength of her cheekbones, the slope of her strong nose and slim jaw.

He realises that he is starting to sound like his uncle and shoves another bite of bread into his mouth viciously, the sharp, hard edges stabbing into the roof of his mouth. He forces the dry bread down, washing it down with the last of the water in his canteen.

The empty canteen gives him an excuse to leave and clear his head.

He throws the last bite of bread aside, ignoring Kuro's huff of irritation at being bothered.

Sakura's eyes are sharp as he makes his excuse, but she just nods quietly, going back to her sad meal and book.

Shisui treks to the little stream just beyond the tree line and considers dunking his entire head under water. The air is cool and crisp, and he imagines that it would shock him back into rationality, but also knows it would give him a nasty head cold the next day.

Instead, he simply splashes his face a few times and refills his canteen.

The dusk is quiet, the birds already home to roost and the fruit bats having already left for their nights hunting.

Sighing again, Shisui tucks his canteen back onto his belt and makes his way back to the clearing. Kuro looks up, dark eyes curious. Sakura is holding something in her hand, eyes unreadable as she meets his.

He catches whatever it is she throws at him.

It is warm from her hand, hard and smooth.

Shisui blinks at the perfect red apple in his hands. He had not seen any apple trees here, or anywhere close to here, and her satchel, while big enough to have held this apple, is still too full, almost bulging at the seams.

So where had she gotten it?

"A little stale bread is not a meal." She murmurs. She looks almost bashful in the firelight, eyes sliding from his face and off to the side. "You shared your food with me, it is only right that I do the same."

Shisui rolls the apple in his hands, still curious as to where she had gotten it. He watches her for a moment as he raises the red fruit to his lips.

Her fingers brush over the bark of the tree she is sitting against, lips moving as she looks up at the dark canopy. Whatever she had said is too quiet for him to have heard, but the leaves of the tree seem to _shiver_ at her voice.

Shisui is again, reminded that she is not human.

It is hard, when she is so small compared to his tall frame, her eyes so large in her face, to remember that this woman had gone toe to toe with Uchiha Madara and come out the other side _alive_. He can't imagine her destroying the palace gardens with a single blow or shattering the city walls with one kick.

But she did.

And as he bites into the apple, Shisui wonders how far her power stretches.

The apple is sweet, the flesh juicy and just crisp enough to make Kuro huff with jealousy.

It takes him a little while to finish the apple. She continues to read, though her face seems less severe now, still distant, but not cold.

Once the sweet fruit is gone and Shisui's fingers are sticky with juice, he rises. He feeds the core of the apple to Kuro, earning him a grateful nuzzle from his loyal companion. He strokes Kuro's nose as he encourages the horse up.

Kuro is unhappy and Shisui murmurs an apology for the grueling pace and long nights.

Behind him, he can hear Sakura rising as well.

He glances over his shoulder just in time to see her stretch.

It is catlike and sinuous, reminding him starkly of the flowing fighting style of the Hyuga. Her cloak slips back off her shoulders and Shisui watches the taut line of her side and hip as she arches her back.

There is a sharp snap as her book snaps shut, startling Shisui out of his thoughts. He looks up-

-Into her eyes.

Shisui stiffens guiltily, caught.

He is no stranger to attention from women, his messy hair and strong jaw alluring to most of the women he meets. But he is not ready for the knowing look in her eyes, the tilt to her lips and the amusement that dances across her face.

He is also unused to being the one caught staring.

Sakura tilts her head, smile widening.

Shisui coughs, looking away from her laughing eyes, ears burning and something like boyish embarrassment blooming in his stomach.

For the first time in eight years, Shisui blushes.

* * *


	4. Know What You're Falling For

They actually talk in this chapter.

So, you know, progress.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters in this story, nor do I profit from this work.

* * *

After his boyish embarrassment at being caught staring the night previous, she seems to relax a little more. Her face loses its frightening blankness, eyes alight with something that Shisui can't quite identify and the corners of her mouth pulled back in a slight smile. She is still not completely unguarded when he sits behind her on Kuro's back, but she is not afraid any more.

It soothes Shisui ever so slightly. Unlike his murderous uncle, he never enjoyed the fear that accompanied his family name or demonic eyes.

Now that Sakura has deemed him a non-threat, she talks to him.

It is not much, a question here or a quiet comment there. But it is a start, and it helps to soothe his frayed nerves, helps him keep his focus on the ride home and not on the curve of her throat.

She has thrown him off like no woman before her. Shisui is not unused to attention from women, more comfortable around them and their mysterious smiles than Itachi and more interested in their company than Sasuke.

With her however, Shisui feels unbalanced and more like a teenage boy, driven by desire. He wonders if his attraction to her is simply her nature as an immortal or if he truly desires her.

But when they talk, Shisui finds he is less distracted, and she is less intimidating, less likely to look right through him.

Sakura is very intelligent, he finds. She is also very curious, if a little eclectic at times.

"The blade is black." She says curiously, holding his dagger up to the moonlight as Kuro trots along. "Enchanted then? No… I can't feel any… Hm…" She peers more closely at the weapon. "It's not obsidian… So, what…"

"Steel forged in the fires of Amaterasu." Shisui tells her.

Her head snaps around, eyes huge in her face. "Truly?"

At his nod, she makes a strange noise in the back of her throat and turns back to the dagger in hand. He smiles at her, charmed by the childlike wonder on her face as she tilts the weapon this way and that.

The expression is a far cry from the detached blankness from the night before and a welcome change from the amused smiles and knowing light to her eyes that had been present all day.

"I had heard stories," She says, tracing a finger down the blade, "but I had thought them _just_ stories. To control the black flames well enough to forge weapons, truly a skilled individual."

Shisui pulls Kuro back to a walk, the animal tossing his head in irritation. When they get back to the capital, Shisui knows he will have to take the horse a bucketful of apples to make up for the grueling trip.

"Where did you get it?" Sakura asks.

Shisui glances at the dagger. "A gift." He says. "My father gave it to me for my twelfth birthday."

"And the smith?"

He smirks at her, more than a little proud. The dagger was his most treasured possession, his father having forged it for him specially, had braved Madara's ire and the ever-burning flames of Amaterasu to make it. The dagger would never break, never dull or be lost. "My father forged it himself."

He hears a quick inhale. "Your father made this?" She twists in the saddle, holding up the dagger so the moonlight catches the sharp edges. "The craftsmanship is amazing."

Shisui knows that his father would have been flattered at her praise. Uchiha Kagami had been a quiet man, humble and too generous. He had taught Shisui the value of generosity and kindness, telling him that Madara's bullish ways and cruel nature would only create more pain.

It had been that kindness that had gotten his father convicted of treason against the crown and killed when Shisui was fourteen.

"-him?"

His eyes snap to Sakura's. She is looking at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry?"

She purses her lips, but her eyes are amused. "I asked if I might meet him. The work is so intricate, I would love to learn how he did it."

Shisui looks away. "Unfortunately, my uncle had no need for a man who refused to forge weapons of war." He says shortly. The wound, though nearly ten years old, still aches something fierce. His father had been a formidable warrior in his own right, but he had not been willing to risk the safety of civilians if he fought back.

"I'm sorry." Sakura says quietly after a few beats of silence.

Shisui does not look at her. He does not want to see the pity in her face.

They ride in silence for a few minutes, Sakura still turning his dagger over in her hands. Finally, she speaks. "He must have been a good man, if he raised a son who wants to end Madara's reign."

"A man who waited ten years before finding a conscious." He says, wondering if his father would be ashamed of how long it took for Shisui's and Itachi's plan to fall into place.

"But you found one!" She insists loudly. He wants to shush her but knows that it would not be received well. "Few men would ever even dream of going against Madara."

Shisui snorts. He is hardly the one taking a risk. Naruto and Kakashi risk more every day they remain in the capital, stirring a rebellion among Madara's soldiers and people and he tells Sakura so.

She spins in the saddle, eyes glittering. "You're taking a risk too. Aren't you?"

"A simple ride out of the city will not draw undue attention." He says and knows when her eyes flash, that he has misunderstood her meaning.

"It's still a challenge to his power," she tells him, "bringing me to the capital."

Shisui doesn't like how easily she sees through him, it makes him feel unbalanced again. Her eyes are too piercing, her mind too quick to put the pieces together. "Who said I would be doing the challenging?" He deflects, tone light. Her eyes narrow and he knows that she has seen through him again.

"I didn't take you for the type of man who ran away from a fight." She says, challenge clear in her voice.

He doesn't rise to the bait. Dealing with Sasuke had tempered him, mellowed him out over the years. "Ah, you know me that well already, then?" He says.

His deflection and blasé tone earns him her ire. She glares at him, obviously frustrated before spinning back around in the saddle. " _Men_." She spits.

"Indeed." He says easily, a little amused.

"Shut up."

"Of course."

That earns him a sharp elbow to the stomach, the blow hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs for a moment.

* * *

When they stop to sleep, the sky beginning to lighten in the East, she seems to have calmed down.

"I'm not stupid." She tells him shortly as he helps her down from Kuro's back.

Shisui knows she is not stupid. He would wager that she could give Itachi a run for his money. "I know."

She turns, and from the expression on her face, he knows he has misunderstood her again. Her eyes are annoyed, but there is some softness there. "I know the extent of Madara's obsession for me. I saw it firsthand, saw him slaughter men who even dared to speak with me."

Shisui isn't sure where this is going.

Sakura spins his dagger in her hand, movements careful and practiced. "I know how hard he has looked for me, how many men he has sent after me. If he knew that my forest had let you in without killing you, that I had shown myself to _you_ , a man not him, he wouldn't hesitate to hunt you down." She catches the dagger, the hilt just a little too large for her hands. "Because if he can't have me, then _no one_ can. Especially not another Uchiha."

Shisui is well aware of Madara's volatile nature when it came to her. He had seen his uncle throw a man across the room when the man had only mentioned the pink haired witch to the West.

She levels the dagger at his chest, tip a breath away from his black shirt. "He wouldn't just kill you, if he saw you with me, would he?" She asks.

The tip of the dagger presses into his chest, just above his heart. Her eyes burn as she stares up at him

He is all too conscious of the coiled power in those slender arms, knows that if she wanted to, she could injure him badly, perhaps even kill him. He is fast, faster than even Madara, but if his uncle could not come out of their fight unscathed, then neither will Shisui.

"No." He answers after a moment.

Of course, Shisui knew the risk he was taking, asking for Sakura's help. If one of Madara's spies saw them together, Madara would return from the front, crazed and enraged and Shisui knew that the city would pay for his boldness.

There is something like triumph in her eyes at his admission.

She lets him push the blade away from his heart, but ignores his open palm, instead slipping the dagger into her own belt and turning away to start preparing herself for sleep.

"That's mine." He reminds her.

She flashes a mischievous smile at him over her shoulder. The sight of such an open and teasing expression, when only a few days ago, she had been cold and distant, steals his breath for a moment.

"You can have it back later." She tells him, ending the conversation.

* * *

I know Kagami isn't Shisui's father, but we don't know who is, so Kagami got the honour. Also, they do share quite a stark resemblance so, it makes more sense than creating a new character.

Anyway, let me know what you think friendos.


	5. Choose Carefully

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have this.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't any of the characters in this story, nor do I profit from this work.

"Tell me about your father." She demands the next time they ride. Her fingers are busy braiding intricate designs into Kuro's long black mane, much to Shisui's amusement. They had ridden in silence for most of the night, Sakura only speaking to rebuff his requests for his dagger back.

It was still tucked into her belt, glinting darkly in the moonlight.

She was a slippery woman and Shisui didn't fancy another elbow to the gut if he presumed to touch her without her permission.

"There isn't much to say." He says.

She hums quietly, fingers quick and light. "That sounds like a lie."

"Does it?"

She turns to look at him, eyes glowing and hair falling around her face. "He was your father, surely there is a story to tell." She shrugs her shoulders, fingers pausing for a moment.

Shisui sighs. She is tenacious, chasing after answers like a dog would a bone. It reminds him of Sasuke and Naruto.

He thinks about simply ignoring her but knows she will keep asking. "What would you like to know?"

"A weapons smith who doesn't make weapons." She says, voice sounding almost musical. "A man who defied the great Uchiha Madara. He sounds like a very interesting man, I would have liked to meet him."

Shisui thinks that his father would have liked to meet her too. His father had always been interested in the immortals that walked their world, their strange magics and long memories. But Madara had kept a close eye on all of the Uchiha, had forbidden them from wandering and punished disobedience with an iron fist.

"He was…" Shisui pauses, thinking. His father had always been an anomaly among the Uchiha, laughing and smiling too freely, a trait he had passed to his son. "He was the black sheep of his brothers." He says. "My father always used to tell me to be kind to everyone, even the poorest of beggars, because no one man could stand above another."

It had been something his father had told Shisui every time Madara had conquered a new city, laid waste to another village. Uchiha Kagami had been born from the same line of warlords as Madara and Izuna but had not inherited their love of war and blood.

He had told Shisui, in a rare moment of true anger, that he hated war, hated the bloodstained Uchiha name and the fear that accompanied it.

"The Uchiha do not value kindness." Sakura says shortly.

Shisui wonders what she is thinking of. "No. My uncle sees it as weakness."

Kuro tosses his head, dislodging Sakura's hands. She clicks her tongue in irritation and scolds the horse in a language that sounds like running water.

Kuro's ears flick back, seemingly listening to her. Shisui wonders if he is.

"I don't want to know about sad things." Sakura says, hands tangling themselves back in Kuro's mane. "Tell me about a happy memory."

Shisui smiles. There are many happy memories. Despite Madara's war mongering ways, Kagami had always found time to spend with Shisui, had always had the patience to deal with incessant questions and loud shouting. His father had taught him more in those stolen moments that Madara had in years.

"My favourite memory of my father…" He thinks hard. "The children in the capital have a game they like to play. I don't know the name, in fact, I don't think there is one." He smiles at the memory of his first lesson. "There are two players, and one ball. Whoever gets the ball between the other persons legs first, wins."

Sakura's hands slow.

"I was nine or ten when my father took me to the marketplace and introduced me to the children there. He taught us all how to play. None of us were very good at it, of course, and my father won more than all of us combined." He says, Kuro's ears flicking back as he talks.

"We got filthy and I was sore for the next two days. But I made some of my best friends that day." Shisui can't help but smile fondly at the memory. He hadn't played the ball game in years, too busy with Madara's campaigns and Itachi's plots. It was a good memory, one of laughter and simpler times.

"It sounds wonderful." Sakura says, a wistful note entering her voice.

"It was, until my cousin's father came and shouted at us all for getting mud everywhere. Of course, that just encouraged my father to throw a mud ball at him." Shisui says with a snort. Itachi and Sasuke's father was a straight-laced man and hadn't much in the way of patience for his brother's antics.

Sakura laughs, the sound musical and bright in the cool night air.

Shisui liked the sound. More than its lovely sound, it sounded truly happy, something he hadn't heard in a long time.

"It got us all in more trouble, but the look on Fugaku's face was worth it." Shisui said, huffing at the memory of his uncle's purple face and balled up fists.

Sakura's fingers have stopped braiding and she is simply combing the soft hair of Kuro's mane now, shoulders still shaking as she giggles.

"You will have to teach me this game." She says, voice still filled with laughter. "I think it would be fun."

"It is."

She hums quietly, and Shisui sees a flash of a smile on her face. They ride in silence for a few moments, Kuro chuffing contentedly as Sakura leans forward in the saddle to scratch his head.

"Why did he not make weapons for Madara?" She asks quietly, sitting back, elbow bumping against the inside of his arm.

Shisui glances at his dagger on her belt. "My father… disagreed with Madara on the subject of warfare. He refused to take part in any of it, be it fighting or creating the weapons to fight with."

She clicks her tongue, obviously disapproving of something. What, Shisui isn't quite sure, but the feeling is not new with Sakura. She confused him more often than not.

"Do you subscribe to your father's ideology?"

"I do." He says without hesitation.

Sakura seems satisfied with his answer and returns to braiding Kuro's mane. Shisui watches her dexterous fingers for a moment, fascinated by the easy movements. She seems to be done talking and Shisui relaxes back into the saddle, half an eye on her hands as he guides Kuro out of the trees and onto the road that will take them to the capital.

They are close now, less than a full days ride out. Shisui knows that they will have to be even more cautious the closer they get to the city walls, will have to convince Sakura to hide her bright hair and clothes.

But for now, he just enjoys the crisp air and the companionable silence.

A flash of blue catches his eye and he looks down to see Sakura winding a little blue flower into Kuro's mane alongside the braids.

He isn't quite sure where she got it from.

"You know," he says, "Kuro is a proud war horse, don't you think that braiding his mane will make him look less intimidating?"

She scoffs at him, winding in another little blue flower. "No."

"He's meant to be scary looking, flowers are hardly scary." He says.

She smirks at him over her shoulder. "Maybe you're just looking at the wrong flowers, then." She says, eyes alight with amusement and smile dangerous.

Shisui isn't quite sure what has changed, but after her trick with the dagger, something between them has shifted. Now their interactions are often tinged with tension, her gaze charged with something that wasn't there before.

Sakura seems to notice as well, her body often going tense part way through their conversations, eyes sliding away from him and to the side.

This time though, she doesn't look away.

"Is this flower dangerous then?" He asks.

He doesn't think he is talking about the little blue blossom.

Her eyes darken. "Maybe."

And he doesn't think she is either.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno why I write about relationships, seeing as I've been in a grand total of one lol. What do I know about this shit?
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think. They don't seem to like me over on FF.Net, so please, if you have time, let me know what you like and what you think I need to improve on.


	6. Do You Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else like... Forget what they've written? Because I keep having to go back and read my own work to remember where I'm at lol. 
> 
> I dropped one of my courses at uni and oh my goooooooooooood, I am so much less stressed. Unfortunate side effect, I've become even more lazy.

Sakura’s lips are downturned as she plays with a strand of her now black hair. The dye was temporary, more of a chalk than anything and Shisui knows it won’t stand up to scrutiny.

But it won’t need to, if Itachi had done as he’d promised and short staffed the guards on gate duty that night.

Shisui had already sent Mugin* ahead to warn Itachi of their arrival. He can only hope Itachi had been able to divert the guard to other posts.

Still, Shisui feels jittery as they approach the gates. It is nearing midnight, the roads quiet and the walls of the city lit at even intervals, guards watching over the empty plains with tired eyes. Shisui bypasses the main gate, pulling Kuro to the side gate that is hidden from the road.

He and Sakura had tied cloth around Kuro’s hooves to muffle the sound of them on the cobbled path. Kuro had not liked it, but hadn’t fussed, only headbutted Shisui in the face for their troubles.

The gate to the secret entrance is rusted and old, but when Shisui pulls it open, the hinges do not squeak, and it does not stick. He sees the gleam of oil on the metal in the wan moonlight.

He makes a note to thank Itachi.

Sakura’s knuckles are white where they clutch the reigns, and Shisui hurries for her sake. He leads Kuro down a few streets, intentionally meandering and circular.

He doesn’t check to see if he’s being followed, doesn’t look around or hesitate. Doing so would draw more attention to him. He walks as if he is tired, and Sakura sags in the saddle, playing the part of weary wife.

Finally, after a few tense minutes, they turn onto the road where Kakashi’s Inn is.

Shisui leads Kuro around the back, easing open the stable doors. Sakura slips down without his help this time and strokes her fingers along Kuro’s side, murmuring something in that strange, foreign language of hers.

She waits patiently while Shisui gets Kuro into an empty stall. Shisui pulls off the expensive leather saddle and Kuro shakes out his mane. Sakura murmurs something to him, petting his soft nose as Shisui hangs the saddle over the side of the stall.

 Sakura accepts the brush Shisui hands her, movements hesitant as she watches Shisui begin to brush the horse down. After a few moments, she copies him, and Kuro huffs in contentment.

Shisui likes moments like this.

When there is no war, no blood, no bloodlust filled uncles looming over his shoulder. Just work that let his mind wander and kept his hands busy.

It has to end though. It is nearing midnight and Shisui knows he needs to let his faithful companion rest. He puts the brushes away, Sakura handing hers over with a brush of her fingers and a slight smile. She steps out of the stall, leaving Shisui with Kuro in the quiet stillness of night.

Shisui pats Kuro on the nose a few times, murmuring promises to bring buckets upon buckets of apples for the horse. Kuro chews on his collar as thanks and Shisui sighs. He collects his things and follows Sakura out of the stall.

The Inn is quiet, but warm when they go inside. The tables are worn and old, scuffed and rickety, but it is a good kind of worn, one that speaks of numerous customers rather than disuse and mistreatment.

Kakashi is at the bar, doing a terrible job of pouring drinks.

Sakura is stiff. Shisui puts a hand on her back. “He’s Naruto’s guardian.” He says, but it doesn’t calm her.

She lets him push her toward the counter anyway. Kakashi is all smiles, not that you can see it under his mask, when they approach.

“Welcome, how can I help you two today? Perhaps a room for two? One bed? The Honeymoon suite?”

Shisui fights the urge tor roll his eyes and opens his mouth to snipe back at the older man. Sakura beats him to the punch however.

“A room for one.” She says testily as she eyes Kakashi.

“Ah, such a shame.” Kakashi says, blowing out a gusty sigh. He dances away from Sakura’s glare. “And some refreshments for the weary travellers?”

Sakura’s face twists for a moment. “A place to clean up would be nice.” She says as she sets their things, mostly Shisui’s travelling kit, on one of the stools.

Kakashi nods, filling a shot glass with deft movements. He somehow manages to get liquid everywhere despite his grace. Sakura eyes it and then raises an eyebrow at Shisui. Shisui shrugs.

Kakashi is a strange man.

“Down the hall to your left.” Kakashi says breezily, pushing the cup at Shisui. “And what’ll the little lady have to drink?”

Sakura huffs. “Water.”

“How unfortunate.” Kakashi says as Sakura stalks away, back stiff and hands fisted at her sides. Shisui sighs, knowing that Sakura would no doubt snark at him for Kakashi’s oddness and inappropriate comments.

He eyes the clear liquid in his glass.

Kakashi snorts. “It’s water, calm down.”

Shisui wishes it wasn’t but downs it anyway. The drink is refreshing, and he is suddenly aware of how thirsty he is. He shakes it at Kakashi rudely.

The silver haired man snatches it away with a click of his tongue. “Aren’t Uchiha’s supposed to be polite?”

“I’m supposed to be a lot of things.” Shisui says darkly. “Did you have to start off with the stupid comments?”

Kakashi’s face turns serious. “My job is to protect Naruto. From everyone and everything. She is dangerous, sweet appearance or not, she nearly levelled this city. I need to make sure she won’t hurt him.”

At the mention of Naruto, Shisui’s stomach tightens. The young heir to the throne had been in a bad way when Shisui had left, delirious and hallucinating, normally tan skin chalk white and breath coming in ragged gasps.

“How is he?”

Kakashi’s face tightens. “Not good. The Kyubi is refusing to let anyone near him. The poison is… I fear you may not be in time.”

Shisui gulps down the second glass of water. “He is awake though?” He says thickly, once he is finished.

“He is.” Kakashi’s voice is urgent. “If we can’t convince the Kyubi to let us near, he _will_ die.”

They both fall into a sullen silence. Shisui broods over his drink and Kakashi is just quietly resigned, movements slow and tired.

Sakura slips into the seat on Shisui’s left, eyes sparkling. “Thank you.” She says politely, accepting her own glass from Kakashi. “Are you seriously getting drunk right now?” She asks Shisui, face unimpressed as she jabs him hard in the bicep.

Shisui pretends it doesn’t sting. “No.”

“It’s water.” Kakashi said softly.

“Hm.” Sakura taps her fingers on the polished wood. “So. What now?”

Kakashi’s face turns thoughtful. He eyes Sakura for a long moment, wiping the water from the counter absentmindedly.  Shisui leans over the counter to refill his glass, seeing as Kakashi is ignoring him in favour of staring at Sakura, obviously trying to see something in her face.

Sakura cocks an eyebrow.

Finally, Kakashi’s only visible eye crinkles into a smile. “What do you know about the Kyubi?”

Sakura’s finger hits the wood hard enough to leave a dent. Shisui winces and looks away, already feeling her glare on the side of his face.

“You idiot.” Kakashi says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Sakura jabs him again. “No. He. _Didn’t_!” She hisses, punctuating each word with a hard jab. The last word is finished with a punch and Shisui grunts, arm deadened by her assault.

Shisui shifts away, shaking out his arm and wincing at the ache that echoes up his bones. “Would you have said yes if I did?”

She jabs him again. “Men.”

“Indeed.” He says with a smile.

“Don’t start with me.” She snarls. “Take me to him, now.” She pushes herself back from the bar, chair legs scraping harshly along the ground. When neither of them move, she looks close to dumping her glass of water on them.

Kakashi smiles brightly at Shisui. “I like her.”

“Of course you do.” Shisui mutters, trailing after Sakura as Kakashi leads them both up the narrow staircase that leads to the small rooms on the second floor. Naruto’s room is right at the end, deceptively normal looking. Shisui knows there are complex seals for protection inked all over the wood of the door and hallway.

“I’ll just see if he’s awake.” Kakashi says, slipping into the room and shutting the door in Sakura’s face.

As soon as the door shuts, Sakura turns on him.

“The Kyubi!?” She hisses, poking him in the chest. Shisui is starting to get tired of being poked and prodded and pushes her hand away.

Shisui knows he has to be careful what he says here. “I was afraid you would say no.”

She slaps him across the cheek, the sound startingly loud in the silence of the night. The slap stings, Shisui’s cheek burning with sudden pain. He is momentarily shocked by the amount of power behind the hit. “So you leave out the most important thing? The Kyubi is an entity older than me, Shisui, and even I don’t know how strong he truly is. This changes everything. I’m not just healing a man now, but a man who houses a spirit almost as old as the planet!” She says, words almost running together in her frustration.

“Can you do it?” He asks warily, rubbing his cheek.

She narrows her eyes at him, the green of them dark in the quiet hallway. “Of course I can, don’t be stupid.”

“I was just-” Shisui gasps when she punches him in the stomach, hard enough to make him double over and force the air from his lungs. He staggers, clutching the wall for support.

“You’d better not be hiding anything else from me, Uchiha Shisui.” She warns him, voice furious. The door to Naruto’s room swings open, revealing Kakashi. She glowers at the silver haired man. “What’s next, this one is a halfling?” She growls, hands flicking out in exasperation.

Shisui groans, slumping against the wall as Sakura forces her way into the room. Kakashi blinks in confusion when she shoves him out of the doorway and slams the door behind her.

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” Shisui grunts, pushing himself upright. He eyes the other man, massaging his stomach. “You aren’t a halfling, are you?” He asks cautiously.

Kakashi blinks at the closed door and then raises an eyebrow at Shisui. “Should I be?”

Shisui waves him away and limps toward the stairs. “I’m hungry.” He declares, trying his best to ignore Kakashi’s gaze on his back.

“Fascinating. Any reason why you two were having a little spat in my inn?” Kakashi asks curiously, voice far too interested for his own good.

Throwing himself down into a stool, Shisui glares at nothing in particular. Kakashi busies himself pulling cold leftovers from the little pantry. They are nothing special, just a cold meat pie and a piece of soft bread, but Shisui is grateful nonetheless.

“Maa, maa, Shisui. What will Madara say when he finds out you’ve fallen for his beautiful pink haired love?”

Shisui throws the bread at Kakashi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mugin (the crow mentioned in this chapter), is named after the crow Odin (Thor's daddio) uses in Norse Mythology. Mugin does have a brother, but I forgot his name so. I know that the characters in this are Japanese, but like... Whatever. Real life crossovers. I dunno.
> 
> The big bad Madara appears next chapter. Which is great, since I do love the dramatic old idiot.
> 
> Anyway, I'll leave you be. Please let me know what you think, criticisms, things you liked, any feedback really. It's all very helpful and I crave attention so.


	7. No Going Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been having the worst cravings for KFC for like the whole week. It's awful because I'm meant to be doing the healthy thing.
> 
> Also, kinda lied. I said you'd get Madara and you do. It's just, I originally meant this chapter to just be Madara being a dramatic hoe, but it just wouldn't work so. You got fluff instead and some slinky, slinky Madara at the end.

Shisui wakes from his doze when Sakura touches his forehead with a featherlight hand. The bar is dark, the candles burnt low and only the barest of cold dawn light filtering through the window.

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs, but there is a smile on her face that makes Shisui think she is anything but. “You looked uncomfortable.”

Shisui sits up, rolling his neck. It will ache for the rest of the day. He’d fallen asleep against one of the walls, head at a strange angle and arms folded. His back hurts and one of his feet has fallen asleep. He shakes it out with a scowl. “What time is it?” He asks, still half asleep.

Sakura’s eyes are a strange shade of green blue in the low cold light. “Just before dawn.” She says, voice still hushed. She doesn’t look tired, the exact opposite in fact, skin almost glowing as it had been the first night he met her.

He looks away before he can embarrass himself. “How is Naruto?”

Her lips twist into a frown. “I’ve done all I can. If he makes it through the day, he’ll live.” She says. “The Kyubi will only let me do so much without interfering. If he weren’t around, it would be simple, but he isn’t the most trusting of beasts.”

Shisui knows the Kyubi’s rage all to well. Had seen the scars it had left on the Earth during one of it’s rampages. “Naruto doesn’t give up. He’ll make it.” He says, stretching as he stands. The pull of his muscles is soothing but makes his neck twinge.

She smiles. “I know. He has a strong spirit.” She hums, head tilting to the side. Her expression is strange as she stares up at him and Shisui looks away. She still looks right through him, eyes far too knowing.

“You know that from one meeting?” He asks, massaging the taut muscle in the side of his neck. It hurts, but it’s a welcome distraction from the woman in front of him.

Sakura laughs quietly, almost like bird song. “The poison would have killed any other.” Her voice is filled with admiration. “Even when he is close to death, he still asked me if I was okay. A strange child.”

Shisui smiles. Naruto is very strange. He is an enigma, filled with hope and stupid, grandiose ideas. But he is also kind and generous, and there is not a mountain in the world large enough to frighten Uzumaki Naruto. “Strange is a kind way of putting it.” Is what he says instead.

She hums quietly. “Here.” She says suddenly, stepping closer and rising on her toes. She reaches up to pull his hand away, replacing it with her own so quickly that Shisui cannot react.

Her fingers are warm, gentle on his skin. Her healing magic is the most curious thing as it curls around her hand. The green of it is softer than her eyes, but no less brilliant.

She is far, far too close.

But he can’t bring himself to move away. There is a strange quietness to the room, a new stillness that he can’t bear to break. Sakura’s eyes are on his shoulder, the glow of her magic strangely comforting.

The magic is nothing like he has felt before. He had been healed by magic once before, by an old woman in the lightning country, but her magic had been wrong and hard, with edges filled with anger and bitterness.

Sakura’s magic feels nothing like that. Cool and strangely soft, it feels almost like a ripple as it unwinds the tension in his shoulder.

She finishes healing his shoulder but doesn’t pull back. Instead, her eyes are almost shy as she looks up at him. Her fingers dance for a moment and then her palm settles on the side of his throat, gentle and hesitant. “You shouldn’t sleep sitting up.” She murmurs.

“I know.”

Sakura bites her lip, a slight smile curling one side of her mouth. “Why didn’t you take the room Kakashi prepared?”

Shisui remembers why he’d stayed up. He needs to apologise for not telling her about the Kyubi. It had been a spur of the moment thing, he had worried she might turn away and cast him back through her forest if she knew about the spirit Naruto housed.

But he can’t think, because her hand is trailing up the side of his neck, fingers tracing a pattern there. Her palm settles on his jaw, cradling it, and he shivers when her fingers curl into the hair behind his ear.

“Sakura, I-”

A loud bang shatters the hushed quiet.

Sakura skitters backwards, eyes wide and lips parted. Her cheeks are flushed and Shisui can’t help but think the colour looks lovely on her. He feels cold without her presence at his front.

“Good morning!” Kakashi sings, far too cheerfully, a giant box of supplies on the bar. Shisui wonders how long the old voyeur had been watching, mood soured. “How are we all this morning? Good? Bad? Wonderful?”

Sakura looks away from them both, hiding behind her ear. “You’re certainly up early.” She says, sounding remarkably unbothered by the interruption.

“Yes.” Shisui says grumpily. “Since when are you up before the sun?”

Kakashi smiles at them, eye glinting and far too knowing for Shisui’s liking. “Oh, now and then I do like to catch the birds outside.” He says casually, rolling his neck.

Shisui catches on immediately. “Excuse me.” He murmurs. Sakura looks up at him as he passes, that strange light still in her eyes. Shisui wants to say it is longing, but he is far too cynical for that. He brushes past Kakashi, restraining himself from stepping on the other man’s foot.

Mugin is waiting for him outside, feathers ruffled.

Shisui holds out his arm and the crow flutters onto it, head cocked and eyes bright in the morning light. He takes the little note attached to Mugins leg, and then the crow claws his way up Shisui’s shirt, settling on his shoulder, beak digging around Shisui’s hair.

The words penned neatly on the paper make Shisui’s blood run cold.

* * *

“Dearest nephew.” Madara coos, eyes lazy and arm slung over the back of the dining chair he is sprawled in. “You’ve finally returned from your trip.”

Itachi is a statue at his side, face carefully blank.

Shisui doesn’t fidget under his uncle’s red eyed stare, though there is a knot of tension and worry in his stomach. “Uncle, you’re home early.”

“Indeed I am.” Madara says, twirling his knife in one hand. He cocks his head. “You look disappointed.”

Shisui huffs, slips into the role of wayward, arrogant nephew. He has played the role since his father died, has used it to lull Madara into thinking him stupid and egotistical. “I am hardly allowed free reign of the city when you’re home uncle.”

“A good thing for the city, I’m sure.” Madara says dryly. He gestures at the table, laden with food. “Sit.”

They sit. Shisui digs in without, seemingly without a care. It makes Madara look away, an indulgent smile on his face. Itachi is more reserved, thanks Madara for the meal and then eats in small bites.

“I heard you visited the Iron country.” Madara says, fishing for information.

Shisui stabs a piece of pork idly. “Hardly worth the time.” He says flippantly. “Dour, awful place.”

“Then why did you go?” Madara asks, amused.

“There were stories of an old crone,” Shisui says, leaning back. Itachi is still silent and still opposite him. “Legend went she could see the future.”

“And what interest have you in the future, nephew?” Madara asks silkily.

Shisui rolls his eyes. “Perhaps I wanted to know where that wife you promised me is.” He says. Itachi sighs, playing the role of long suffering cousin.

Madara laughs. “And did she tell you?”

Snorting, Shisui spears another potato. “She sang like a bird under my blade, but there was nothing more than stories and lies in her words.”

Madara hums. “A shame.” He plays with the stem of his wine glass. “A future seer might have been useful. She might have seen a way through the forest to the West.”

He can’t help but stiffen. Madara never mentions Sakura, not unless pushed or drunk. Why bring her up now? His uncle’s eyes are sharp on the side of his head, and Shisui knows he is watching, fishing for any slip, any chink in his armour.

Itachi intervenes as he always does. “We should just burn the forest.” He says smoothly. “It’s wood does not cut and its brambles make for poor building material.”

“Such bullheaded tactics are more Sasuke’s style.” Madara says, but his attention has shifted and Shisui relaxes slightly.

“It is the most efficient way.” Itachi says with a shrug. “It is hardly worth a military campaign, uncle.”

Their uncle hums. “Perhaps not to you. But there is a woman in that forest, and one day, I shall have her.” He says. There is a note of longing there.

Finally, Shisui looks up. Itachi is quiet and still, knuckles white with fear as he grips his fork. 

Madara meets his eyes over the rim of his wineglass.

Shisui’s stomach fills with dread at the suspicion there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi is me every time I see couples doing couply things. 
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	8. So Just Be Sure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Sakura this chapter, but we do get to see Sasuke for the first time. Unfortunately, it's very short and he won't reappear until like, chapter 10. I dunno, he's difficult for me to write.
> 
> In other news, I had takeout twice this week, so yeah, I'm going to hell.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters in this story, nor do I profit from this work.

Chapter 8: So Just Be Sure

“Don’t look at me like that.” Itachi says, testy. “I didn’t call him back here.”

“You must have done something.” Shisui hisses back. His body thrums with nervousness, every muscle taut with fear that Madara will find out what they are planning.

He throws his travelling gear into his closet, fear making him angry. They clatter against the wall, scattering his clothes and knocking one of his training swords to the ground.

It is unfair of him to blame Itachi and Sasuke. He knows this, but he can only think of Madara will do to Naruto if he finds him alive, what he will do to Sakura, to Itachi, to Sasuke.

“We didn’t do anything!” Sasuke insists. He had cornered them after their dinner with Madara, demanded to know if Sakura had finished healing Naruto yet.

Shisui had seen the worry in Sasuke’s hands, the fear in his eyes and then the relief when Shisui had told him that Naruto was out of the woods, that he would be okay. Their relationship is a strange one. The two boys bicker and squabble like children, but Shisui knows that they would die for each other.

“You’re sure you weren’t seen?” Itachi presses. He sits on Shisui’s bed, eyes tight at the corners. He is paler than usual, face drawn and gaunt. “You are absolutely sure?”

“I lost the tail in the Iron country.” Shisui says darkly. He had lost Madara’s man in the cold country, but he was beginning to worry that his uncle had other spies, spies he hadn’t noticed. “Doubled back, lay the false trail. I did everything I could.”

“You must not have!”

“Shut up, Sasuke.” Shisui says with a glower. He rips off his outer jacket, tearing out one of the buttons and throws it aside.

“Well why else would he have come back?” Sasuke asks. “Unless the girl is a spy for him and she was bait for us to take, another way for him to set a trap.”

“A trap over a hundred years old?” Shisui asks incredulously. “Not a particularly good one.”

Sasuke fumes, on edge after Madara’s sudden reappearance in the capital. He opens his mouth to retort, colour already rising on his neck.

“Stop it.” Itachi says quietly. He rises from Shisui’s bed, expression worried. “It does not matter why Madara has returned, only that he has. We need to be careful, he’s already suspicious of us. That means no sneaking off to see Naruto, Sasuke.”

Sasuke clamps his mouth shut, furious, but doesn’t complain. He slams out of Shisui’s room, even more highly strung that usual. Itachi sighs, sitting down again, shoulders high and tense.

“I wasn’t followed.” Shisui repeats, taking a seat next to his cousin and best friend. “I was careful.”

“Madara is paranoid.” Itachi says. “He knows we resent him, and this sudden visit could be simply to get us on edge.”

“It’s working, if it is.” Shisui says tiredly. His body aches from his bad night’s sleep, but his shoulders and neck are wonderfully limber from Sakura’s magic. He wishes things weren’t so complicated. “Sakura didn’t like knowing Madara was here.”

Itachi looks worried. “She will fulfil her end of the bargin?”

Shisui nods. Sakura had bristled at Kakashi’s suggestion that she might leave and Shisui had been smugly pleased when she’d punched the other man in the stomach. “She is confident that Naruto will be fully healed in four days. Though she says that he won’t be ready to challenge Madara for at least a week.”

His cousin nods. “Indeed. She is a brave woman, coming back to the city that was once her prison.” He murmurs, shaking his head.

“I think she hates Madara more than she fears him.” Shisui says quietly. “She can be rather vicious when she wants to be.” He says, remembering her punch to the gut the night before. Hist stomach is tender and he thinks that maybe he should have asked her to heal that as well.

Itachi looks at him, eyebrow raised. His eyes flick down the empty place on Shisui’s belt, silently asking about his missing dagger.

Shisui huffs at the memory of Sakura’s game of keep away. “She took a shine to it.”

“And you just let her take it?” Itachi asks, a note of incredulity in his voice.

“I didn’t _let_ her do anything.” Shisui says. “I gave it to her to look at and she… well, I never got the chance to get it back.”

Itachi snorts, leaning back on his palms. “Liar.” He says, eyes shining with amusement. Shisui doesn’t like that it has come at his expense, but he does like to see Itachi’s face happy instead of sombre and drawn with worried. “She won’t let you have it back.”

“No, I let her keep it.” Shisui insists. “For now.”

“Knowing your predilections, she threatened you with it, didn’t she?” Itachi teases, tossing his hair back from his face.

Shisui swipes at the younger Uchiha. “Come here and say that again, you little shit.”

His cousin dances away from the bed, chuckling. He smiles at Shisui, open and unguarded for once. “She did!”

“Shut up.”

Itachi’s face brightens for a moment and then sobers just as quickly. He looks at Shisui searchingly, and Shisui looks away. Much like Sakura, Itachi has always been able to see through his masks and acts, always able to look under his clever words and smiles. “Shisui, what have you done?”

“Nothing.” Shisui says, suddenly souring at the implications behind Itachi’s words.

Itachi looks around the room, obviously growing frustrated. “Shisui, you’re playing a dangerous game.”

“There is no game.” Shisui says sharply, looking at Itachi with a glare. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, Itachi.”

“You looked like father did when he thought of mother. There was the same fondness in your voice that he had when he told me about her.” Itachi whispers. His face is drawn, and he looks so tired, so much older than his twenty-three years.

Shisui hates that his gentle, kind cousin is always forced to act cold and cruel, is forced onto the battlefield. Hates that he is now the cause for Itachi’s slumped shoulders and heavy eyes.

“I…” Shisui looks away, suddenly ashamed. He should have more control. “I don’t know.”

“He will tear the world apart if he finds out you-”

“He won’t!” Shisui says loudly. He sighs. “I’m sorry. Itachi, I didn’t mean for it to happen, but you’ve not met her… There is… It’s…”

Itachi’s face softens a little. “I shall have to then.” Is what he says.

The tension in the room dissipates, and Shisui opens his mouth to ask about Itachi’s progress with the legion stationed in the capital.

He never gets the chance, because there is a knock on the door. Itachi’s face hardens into a mask of cool indifference and Shisui settles his own into a similar one.

The servant outside smiles at him hesitantly, hands tucked in front of her neatly. She bows low. “Genera Uchiha, His Highness has requested your presence in his chambers.” She says quietly.

Itachi brushes past him, putting a hand on his shoulder for the briefest of moments, squeezing in solidarity. “I shall see you for training tomorrow, Shisui.” He says blankly, barely looking at the servant girl before sweeping off down the hallway.

“Now?” Shisui asks, leaning against the doorframe.

She nods, smile still shaky.

He smiles back and she relaxes a little. “Alright, thank you.” He says. “You may go.”

She scurries off and he closes the door. He runs his fingers through his hair, worried.

What could Madara want?

* * *

 Shisui walks through the well lit hallways, trying not to think too hard about Madara might want with him.

A private audience in his uncle’s room was a rarity, and not something that Shisui particularly looked forward to. The last time he had been in that room, his father had been sentenced to die. Madara had made him watch as his father had died, smile cruel and cold.

The doors are intricately carved, tall and dark. Shisui steels himself, pushing away the knot of tension in his stomach, pulling the mask of arrogant and flippant nephew over his face.

He hears Madara’s call to come in after he knocks. He walks in, shutting the door behind him quietly.

Madara is standing by the fireplace, back to him, hands clasped behind his back. Unlike most men, who might have a family portrait hanging above the mantle, Madara has a rather grislier prize hanging there.

They are just as stunning as the first time he saw them.

Bright white, even after all these years, the feathers pristine and perfect. In the firelight, the gold and silver threads running through the feathers gleam and look almost like they are moving, winding through the feathers like liquid. The places where Madara tore them from Sakura’s back is ragged, red and awful to look at. They are displayed like a prize hunting trophy, mounted and hung on a richly coloured mahogany board. 

Shisui looks away from them, hating the sight of them. He can’t imagine what Sakura felt when they were ripped away.

“Shisui.” Madara says, voice silky. “You don’t like them?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itachi is cute and he deserved way better. Also, what I was trying to get across with him mentioning Shisui's 'predilections', was basically that Shisui finds it attractive when women threaten him with pointy things.
> 
> I dunno, I just feel like Uchiha's would be the ones to find that stuff attractive. They're so weird. 
> 
> Madara is surprisingly fun to write. And the next chapter is alllllll Madara.


	9. Come to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had trouble with this one, so it's really short. Sorry about that, but I really had to fight with the characters today. I lost, as you can see.
> 
> University is killing me, I ate pizza last night and I have a presentation on Friday. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Chapter 9: Come to Me

“You don’t like them?” Madara asks, turning to face Shisui. His hair is bound tonight, in a low, loose ponytail and his arms are bare of the black bracers he usually wears. The casualness doesn’t make him feel any better.

Shisui looks away from the wings. “They’re nothing more than a pretty wall decoration now.” He says flippantly. He throws himself onto Madara’s elegant black chaise, propping his feet up on the glass table and slinging one arm across the plush back of the sofa. “Pretty, but not particularly useful.”

Madara hums thoughtfully. “I suppose not” He says. “I thought they might draw her back here.” He tells Shisui.

Shisui stiffens. His uncle had never mentioned why he’d taken Sakura’s wings all those years ago. Only that he had. So why now?

The sick feeling of fear in his stomach comes back and Shisui swallows hard to try and alleviate it.

“The first time I saw them, I was struck by their sheer size. I thought them large enough to be able to carry a horse.” Madara says quietly, obviously lost in thought as he stares up at the wings. “Watching Sakura fly with them, I felt such envy. I had always wished to take to the sky.”

The fear in Shisui’s stomach turns to horror at Madara’s words. He feels all his muscles coil his breath begin to quicken and heat begin to prickle at the backs of his eyes.

“And the woman attached to them… She’s nothing like the simpering whores you acquaint yourself with.” Madara said, voice silky and dark. “She should have been my queen. Her power and mine… Whirlpool and the Senju bastards to the South, they would have already fallen to my sword.”

Madara turns and Shisui forces himself to look unaffected, to appear like he is more interested in the crystal wine set sitting on the glass table in front of him. His uncle slinks over to sit next to him, kicking Shisui’s feet from the table.

“Such poor manners.” His uncle says. “Sometimes I wonder if you were raised by wolves. You and Sasuke both.” He says, shoving Shisui’s arm back into his lap and tugging Shisui’s collar straight. “Barbaric, the both of you.”

“I’m much more civilized than Sasuke.” Shisui says easily, waving a hand.

“Of course you are.” Madara says indulgently. He leans forward on the chaise, reaching for the crystal glasses on the table and the decanter of wine. “Wine?” He asks, already pouring a glass.

“Yes, thank you.” Shisui says. There is no choice there, but sometimes, he likes to pretend his uncle does not frighten him. He knows Madara likes the fear he instils in his nephews, knows that his uncle only plays the part of doting, caring uncle until they come of use to him.

Obito had believed it for the longest, had truly believed that Madara was not the man Kagami and Fugaku said.

Shisui has always wondered what Obito thought in his last moments.

Madara is quiet for a long time after he hands Shisui’s the glass half filled with dark red liquid. He sits there, eyes on the wings above the mantle, eyes faraway and mouth downturned.

Even if Shisui still feels ill from his uncle’s revelation that he stole Sakura’s wings out of jealousy, he still finds himself curious. Sakura is a strange woman, oddly open to him, and still so closed off.

He finds himself, in the quiet of night, wondering about her. There is a desire in him, deep in his chest, to know her, to see her smiles, all of them, and to see her joy, unencumbered by worry and stress.

So he asks, desperately curious, “What is she like?”

Madara looks at him, obviously startled.

Not once, in all of Shisui’s life, has he asked this question. Sakura had always been a sensitive topic for Madara and he and his cousins had long learned to keep their mouths shut and ears open when it came to the mysterious pink haired witch to the West.

His uncle looks back at his untouched drink. “She is… Beautiful. Striking, perhaps, is a better word.” He says finally, after a few long moments of silence. “The innocence and naivety of a priestess, with all the sensuality and confidence of a vixen. Such an alluring combination.”

Shisui regrets his query almost as soon as Madara opens his mouth. To hear Sakura, reduced to nothing more than a beautiful woman, it seems almost insulting.

“She looks delicate, like a pampered capital woman, but she is anything but.” Madara continues, oblivious to Shisui’s silent disgust. “Have you ever seen the skin of an immortal, nephew?”

_Yes._

“No.” He lies.

“Hm… It glows, so subtly that you don’t see it until the second glance, but there is a shimmer there. A radiance of power. It is rather beautiful in the moonlight.”

Shisui is reminded sharply of his and Sakura’s first meeting. Her skin had glowed then. Her eyes had glowed too.

“Everything about her draws you in. It’s unnatural, she is unnatural.” Madara finishes, looking up at the ceiling. “Still, her power is a sight to behold. It would have complimented mine wonderfully- It will, when I find her.”

Madara falls silent after his last sentence, obviously trying to think of how to word his next sentence. Shisui doesn’t particularly want him to continue, but to change the subject now would draw suspicion.

His uncle is insane, and hearing him say such awful things about Sakura, sweet, kind Sakura, makes Shisui’s blood boil with rage.

It takes everything in him to calm that rage, to swallow his angry words and put on a mask of unaffected, bored nephew.

 “There was a wildness to her. Had I had more time, I’d have tamed that streak, channelled it into winning me the continent.” Madara murmurs, tilting the wing glass in his hand, this way and that, eyes fixed on the dark liquid. “She would have been stunning in battle.”

Shisui has to physically bite his tongue.

Sakura cannot be tamed, shouldn’t be. He remembers the rage in her eyes, the set to her mouth when Madara is mentioned. His uncle is right, Sakura has a wildness to her, an otherworldliness that he doesn’t quite understand, but he knows that she will bend but never break.

He doesn’t think his uncle understands Sakura one bit.

But instead, he simply says, trying to keep his voice light, “Sounds tiresome.”

Madara laughs, loud and full bellied. “Oh, nephew, how right you are.” He says. “She is a tiresome, infuriating woman. And it will make breaking her all the sweeter.”

Shisui takes a gulp of wine, snarling into the glass at the heavy, sour taste.

He has always hated the taste of red wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're not meant to like Madara. He's a creepy old dude. It's OOC, cause in canon, I reckon he doesn't give af about women, but whatever, he's a better villain than Kaguya.
> 
> Also, have some Obito angst.


	10. Here You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a paper due in just over 12hrs and I haven't started. It'll be fine.
> 
> Also, I rewatched Madara taking on the Shinobi alliance and good lord, I should not be so attracted to such a psycho. 
> 
> You get the best blonde ever this chapter, which is great. I do love Naruto. He's such a cutie. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Dark Horse

Chapter 10: Here You Are

“She went out?” Shisui repeats, incredulous.

Naruto shrinks back against his pillows and Shisui immediately feels ashamed. He sits back down, tries for a smile and it seems to work, because the blonde relaxes a little.

He had snuck out the castle, still rattled by his conversation with Madara the night prior. He had hoped to catch Naruto alone, spend some time with the young heir. He had not been expecting to hear that Sakura had left the relative safety of the inn.

“She’s with Kakashi.” Naruto says, “’Sides, I don’t think she really needs much protection.”

Shisui thinks of the scars on the grounds of the castle. Thinks of her healing magic, the trick with apple, the way that Kuro seems to understand her. “No. She doesn’t.” He agrees. Sighing, he leans back in his chair. “It’s just Madara is in the city and I worry that he’ll discover us.”

Naruto’s eyes turn serious. “Sasuke said he had come back.” And then his smile comes back in full force. “But don’t you worry, Shi, we won’t give it away! The plan’ll work, you’ll see. Itachi’s plans never fail, right?”

Shisui raises an eyebrow at the mention of Sasuke. Itachi had forbidden the youngest Uchiha from leaving the castle grounds, for fear of Madara nosing after his favourite nephew. “Sasuke told you?”

Naruto’s face pales a little and he splutters. “What? No, I mean, Kakashi said, it was just, I heard it from a guard, y’know the one with the mouth, who always talks about this stuff, he told me about it! Sasuke was never here, no, no, no!”

He says nothing, only folds his arms and stares at the rightful heir to the throne. After a few moments, Naruto begins to fidget under his gaze, eyes darting to the left guiltily.

“Oh fine!” Naruto cries, throwing his arms up before folding them petulantly. “He came by last night.” He grumbles. “Stupid Shi.”

Shisui snorts and relaxes his tense posture. “I don’t care if Sasuke was here, Naruto. Trying to tell either of you not to do something is like trying to bathe a cat.” He shakes his head fondly, ruffling Naruto’s hair, much to the blond’s annoyance.

Naruto glowers at him and pats his hair grumpily. “I’m not a cat!”

“I didn’t say you were.” Shisui teases and chuckles at the reddening in Naruto’s cheeks. Much like Sasuke, it was far too easy for him to rile up the blond. “Oh calm down.”

Naruto huffs and looks away.

They sit in companionable silence for a few moments, Shisui staring out the window absently, while Naruto reclines against the headboard.

“Hey Shisui?”

He hums, looking at the blond. Naruto’s face is mischievous, and he is immediately on edge, well aware of the blond’s antics and warped sense of humour. “What?”

Naruto looks smug. “What happened to your dagger?” He asks, gesturing at the empty place on Shisui’s belt.

Automatically, Shisui’s hand goes to his hip. And then he remembers that Sakura never gave it back, and that Naruto must have seen it on her belt. He purses his lips, ignoring the delight in Naruto’s face. “Nothing.”

“You lost it to a girl!” Naruto cackles, slapping the bed and doubling over with laughter. “Big bad, General Uchiha, losing his dagger to a girl half his size!”

Shisui thinks that he should be careful with Naruto, fragile as the young man is. But as the blond keeps laughing, he decides that Sakura can just heal any extra damage he inflicts. So he lunges forward, grabs the blond in a headlock and rubs his fist over his head triumphantly.

“What was that, brat?” He crows.

Naruto flails, shouting as he tries to escape. “Foul play!” He cries, “Attacking an invalid!”

Shisui lets the blond go, sits back in chair and smirks at the disgruntled look Naruto shoots him, but there is joy in those blue eyes. It is a sight he had sorely missed. He had grown fond of the blond and his endless optimism and seeing him sick and pale had torn at Shisui’s heart.

He gets a pillow in the face for his actions.

“Sweet, sweet revenge!” Naruto yells, smacking Shisui over the head a few more times for good measure.

Shisui shoves off his chair, managing to pull the pillow from Naruto and smacks the blond in the face with it. Naruto falls back, rolls off the bed, taking the blankets and pillows with him. Shisui swears, dropping the pillow in worry and hurrying around to where Naruto has fallen.

As he does, Naruto leaps up and slaps him with another pillow. It makes him reel back and the blond shouts with victory, wailing on him mercilessly.

“What are you two doing?!” An exasperated voice demands.

Shisui looks up from where he was covering his head with his hands. Naruto whacks him once more for good measure, and then drops the makeshift weapon, smiling sheepishly at Sakura’s unimpressed form in the doorway.

“Sakura!” The blond says happily. “How was your shopping trip?”

“You!” Sakura accuses, stomping into the room. “You’re supposed to be resting!” She says, dragging Naruto back to bed by the ear. The blond wails and whines, but lets her stuff him back in, accepting the blankets and pillows she shoves into his arms with a pout.

Shisui pulls a face at Naruto behind her back and the blond makes a rude gesture at him.

Sakura turns on him with a scowl. “And you!” She says, stalking over to grab him by the arm. “You shouldn’t be encouraging him!” She says, dragging him from the room. “Naruto, Kakashi will bring you lunch.” She barks.

Shisui hears Naruto call out a vulgar taunt as she slams the door and glowers. Sakura isn’t having it and tugs on his arm to get his attention.

“He’s still weak.” She says sternly. “Do you want to delay the process even more?”

It seems, that every time he’s in trouble with her, it’s in this hallway. Shisui sighs. “It was all in good fun.”

She glowers at him. “You’re lucky that I managed to get some herbs at the market. They should help bolster his immune system.”

Shisui remembers suddenly that she had gone out, in the capital, where anyone could see her. He folds his arms, unimpressed with her apparent lack of self-preservation instincts. “You should have asked, I could have gotten them for you.”

She blinks. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have gone out, Sakura, Madara has eyes everywhere-” He grunts when she slaps a hand over his mouth.

“I can handle myself just fine.” She says over him.

He pulls her hand away, annoyed. “I don’t doubt that, but the plan hinges on Naruto being fully healed and if Madara knows you’re here, he’ll know something else is up, will go a rampage and all of this will have been for naught.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I was careful. I reapplied the chalk.” She says, holding up her hair, which is dark again. It will wash out when she bathes, but it is passable. “No one saw us.”

He isn’t willing to admit that his worry hadn’t actually been about the plan failing, but rather simply for her safety. He knows Madara’s obsession for her runs deep, and it surprises him how scared he is to think of what the man would do to her if he ever found her.

“I know that, it’s just…” He sighs, looking at the ceiling in frustration. Sakura is far too trusting, far too open and far too selfless to see how this affects him. Of course, she wouldn’t think twice about putting herself in danger.

It frustrates him, because he can’t protect her.

And she is far, far too old to be this naïve.

“Just what?” She asks. They are about a foot apart, but she takes a small step forward. “We didn’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“I know you can protect yourself.” He forces out, raking a hand through his hair. His heart is beating too fast and he hopes she can’t hear it. He is dangerously close to saying something stupid and swallows the words instead.

“So what then?” Sakura asks, something like realisation appearing in her eyes.

He looks away.

She sees through him far too easily and embarrassment blooms in his stomach.

“Shisui.”

He looks at her.

There is a strange light to her eyes. It looks like expectation.

For what, he doesn’t know.

“Is that the only reason you were worried?” She presses, shifting closer to him. They are toe to toe now, her head tipped back to look up at him. Her hand finds his arm again, fingers gentle as she flips it over, tracing a pattern down the sensitive skin of his wrist.

Shisui swallows. He can’t think when she does things like this.

“Is it?” She asks, moving even closer still. They are chest to chest now, and he can feel the warmth of her body through his clothes, can smell the sweet scent of her hair, of her. Her eyes are expectant, hopeful.

“I…” His voice fails him, but his hand comes up to curl around the arm she has on his. It is so small, his fingers overlapping as he holds her. He keeps his hand gentle, can’t help but brush a thumb over the soft fabric of her shirt.

But it is enough for her. Her expression softens, a smile curling her lips. Her cheeks redden beautifully, and she looks away, suddenly shy. It is far too endearing and Shisui’s heart thunders in his ears.

“Oh isn’t this just adorable.”

Shisui is going to kill Kakashi.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, Kakashi is great. I feel like he would totally do stuff like that.
> 
> Hold tight friends, you get some more crack ship goodness next chapter. Also dramatic Uchihas.


	11. Mark My Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who went to sleep with wet hair? Me.
> 
> And guess who now has a head cold. Me. It is also me.
> 
> Send KFC friends, I'm dying. On the plus side, you get an extra long chapter today.
> 
> Read and enjoy friendos.

Shisui isn’t quite sure what to do. After Kakashi’s untimely interruption, Sakura had fled back to her room and left Shisui standing in the hall like a fool. Kakashi had only laughed at him and asked if Shisui wasn’t going to chase her?

So here he stands, outside the closed door to Sakura’s room. He wants to knock, continue their conversation, but he isn’t quite sure what else there is to say.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open and he is staring at Sakura’s amused green eyes. She smiles at him. “Are you doing stand there all day?” She asks, turning away and striding back into the room, door left wide.

Shisui opens his mouth and then closes it again. He shakes his head with a smile and follows her, the door closing with a quiet click. Her room is warm, lit by the noon sun, dappling the pale sheets. Her things are piled neatly on the dresser, her cloak flung over the back of a plush armchair.

She goes back to the dresser, digging around in her bag for something.

“Sakura, I…” Shisui trails off, still lost for what he wants to say.

She takes pity on him, turning with a knowing smile, eyes dancing. Her cheeks pinken slightly, just enough to see. She is holding her hands behind her back, hiding something. “Don’t hurt yourself.” She teases. “I know what you mean, even if you can’t say it.”

He shifts, fiddling with his belt and the empty place on it for his dagger. It still hangs at Sakura’s waist, a little too large for her.

“Come.” She says suddenly, sitting on the bed. “I have something to show you.”

Shisui moves to her, curious. She is cradling something in her hands, hiding it from view and she smiles at him secretly as he sits, angling whatever it is away from him. After one more smile, she opens her palms and shows him what it is she is holding.

It is a little sand golem, the tan colour of it glittering with crushed crystal. There is a scarlet tattoo circling its little hands and feet and a light grey circle on its face. It sits in her hands, and then, before Shisui’s eyes, it moves.

It sits up, shaking out its arms before standing. It looks at Sakura, featureless face somehow disapproving.

Sakura giggles at Shisui’s dumbfounded look. “A gift, from my brother.” She explains, poking the little golem gently in the forehead. “He is worried about me and has sent a vicious guardian to protect me.” She coos, stroking the golem.

The golem swats at her hand, obviously offended and Shisui laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. He hadn’t known Sakura had a brother. He reaches out, rapt by the curious little doll and the golem jabs at him angrily.

“Now, now, none of that.” Sakura chides, curling her hands around the golem protectively. It waves its hand at Shisui, less intimidating than adorable. She smiles at her closed hands and then at Shisui. “He worries far too much, insists on sending his little minders. I do enjoy teasing them.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” He murmurs, still intrigued by the sentient sand.

“Your people call him Tanuki, or the God of Wind.” Sakura says at his questioning look. “He’s not a god, rather just a grumpy old man with no sense of humour.” She looks lost in thought for a moment, eyes smiling. “His name is Gaara.”

Shisui isn’t quite sure of what to think. Gaara, the Tanuki God of Wind. He had heard stories of a furious sand beast that commanded wind, he had never imagined it would Sakura’s brother.

“He’s really quite sweet.” Sakura says, opening her hands again. The golem is still, sitting now and she leans forward to set it on the table beside her. “I think he would like you.”

Shisui opens his mouth to respond but never gets the chance, because there is a knock on the glass. They both turn, to find Munin perched on the sill, eyes bright and curious at he peers at them.

Sakura sighs as Shisui rises to collect the little role of parchment on the birds ankle. Munin cries once and then flaps away, obviously off to find Itachi.

Shisui frowns as he reads the summons from his uncle. A second visit, in less than twenty four hours? What could be so important that Madara asked to see him again?

“Urgent news, I take it?” Sakura says and Shisui turns, to see her watching him, hands folded neatly in her lap. He doesn’t want to leave, but he cannot raise Madara’s suspicion by being late.

“Unfortunately.” He says. He hovers near her side, clutching the parchment. For a moment, neither of them move.

He wants to draw her close but isn’t sure whether his touch would be welcomed. So instead, he settles on a smile and a squeeze of her shoulder. “I’ll be back after dinner.” He says. “I’ll bring Itachi and we can play cards.”

Sakura says nothing, and he swallows before turning away. The mood had soured so quickly, and he hates to see her alone in that room, but he cannot earn Madara’s ire now, not when they are so close.

 “Shisui!”

He yelps when she grabs his collar, spins him around and yanks him back to her. They collide, hard enough to make them both stumble and then she is leaning up and pressing her lips against his.

Her hands leave his collar, cup the side of his neck, the back of his head as she pulls him closer.

It is a desperate, messy kiss.

Shisui relaxes, raises his arms to pull her up to him. She feels much smaller like this, in the circle of his arms. Her fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, it makes him shiver and she smiles against his mouth.

He tilts his head, to deepen the kiss, forgetting all about Madara’s summons. All he can think of is the spitfire of a woman in his arms and her lips on his.

Her hair is just as soft as it looks.

Sakura pulls away suddenly, abruptly and he finds himself disappointed. She smiles up at him, cheeks red and eyes bashful. “We shouldn’t keep his Majesty waiting, should we?”

Shisui would rather not talk about Madara right now. It must show on his face, the stress and worry that Madara’s name brings to his stomach, because her face falls as well.

They stand in silence for a few heartbeats, until her hands slide from his hair, holding his face in her hands. She forces him to meet her eyes, green and earnest. “Come back to me.” She says.

It sounds like a plea.

Shisui frowns. She sounds scared, and there is a tinge of fear to her green eyes, worry in the line of her brow and mouth. “He doesn’t suspect anything.” He tries to reassure her.

Sakura’s hands slip from his face, leaving the skin there cold. They brace against his chest as she settles back onto her heels. Her eyes never leave his face, flicking over his features, as if she is trying to see something there.

“Promise me.” Sakura demands, as she blinks rapidly. “Come back to me, Uchiha Shisui.”

He drops his head, presses his lips to hers in a brief kiss. “I promise.” He murmurs against her lips.

Her fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt as she presses up against him. Unlike their first kiss, this one is unbearably sweet and chaste.

Then suddenly, she pushes him away, her shove making him stumble back a step.

“Now go away.” She says brusquely, covering her mouth and turning away. Her hair falls over her face and Shisui smiles, tilting his head to better see the blush on her cheeks.

Shisui salutes her, jaunty and confident and she scoffs at him, waving him away. “Of course.”

He leaves Kakashi’s inn feeling lighter on his feet than he had in years.

* * *

 

Shisui eyes Madara warily. Another meeting, not twenty four hours after the first?

Something is wrong.

There is tension in the air. It feels thick and oppressive. This tension is filled with secrets and long harboured rage and bitterness. Madara can feel that something is coming, but he does not know what.

Shisui would like to keep it that way.

 “You have the look a man in love.” Madara says, rolling a wooden ball in one hand. His eyes are not on Shisui, but on the ball, focused, intent.

It is not what Shisui expects his uncle to say. It brings the knot of worry back. Madara does not know Sakura is in the city, but even so, the idea of Madara finding out about his and Sakura’s burgeoning relationship frightens him, chills him to his very core.

“Please tell me she is not some low born whore.” Madara continues, throwing the ball up and catching it.

Sakura is the farthest thing from a whore. “We had hoped to keep it secret…” He smiles off to the side, playing the part of secretive lover. “Her father is not the kindest of men.”

Madara snorts. “He will have no say in the matter.” He says briskly, rising from his desk.

Shisui tracks Madara’s movements around the desk. His dark-haired ancestor sets the ball on the desk with calloused fingers.

“So distrustful.” Madara says, a smug smile curling his lips. “I have no interest in your slut, nephew.”

“She is not-”

“Oh calm yourself, boy.” Madara interrupts, rolling his eyes. Shisui fights the urge to snarl at the more powerful man. “You and your misplaced sense of honour. Possibly the most annoying thing your father taught you.”

Shisui swallows his rage. “Did you need something from me, uncle?” He asks instead. He wants out of this room. He clenches one fist at his side, feels his knuckles strain with his fury.

Madara slinks closer, eyes like fire. “You leave tomorrow.” He says sharply. “You’ve had enough time to recuperate, visit your whore and enjoy yourself.” His voice is acidic, furious and for a moment Shisui thinks he knows about their plan, about Naruto, about Sakura.

“So soon?” Shisui pretends to think, brow furrowed. “The legion is not ready-”

Madara’s face smooths over. “You’ll go alone. The legion will follow after.”

And then Shisui understands.

Shisui will never reach the front. Madara intends to have Shisui alone and vulnerable, intends to take his eyes when Shisui has no allies or anywhere to flee to.

Madara may not know what they are planning, but his paranoia has kept him alive all these years. He knows something is coming and he is preparing for it. Shisui’s eyes will grant him power.

That cannot happen. There is a heavy sense of dread in his stomach as Madara stops in front of him. They are the same height, though Madara seems so much more imposing, the weight of his stare pressing down on Shisui’s shoulders.

“At dawn.” Madara says.

Shisui has no choice but to agree. “Of course, uncle.” He murmurs, dipping his head.

Madara clicks his tongue, reaching out to straighten Shisui’s collar. “You may be the oldest, but you are perhaps the most useless of my nephews when it comes to dressing yourself.” For a moment, his voice sounds fond, and Shisui thinks he could be anyone’s doting uncle.

Then Madara’s hands tighten on Shisui’s collar and his uncle’s whole body goes taut. Shisui looks at his uncles face, sees it whiten, sees something like shock flicker across this face.

“I know this scent.” Madara whispers, yanking Shisui forward. “I know this-” His jaw clenches as he tugs on the collar and Shisui realises too late that as brief as their embrace had been, some of Sakura’s perfume must have clung to the thick material. “This is _her_ scent.”

Shisui tries to pull away but Madara holds fast.

Madara’s eyes are wide with betrayal and insanity.

The room is silent, thick with fury and rage.

“ _You traitor_.” Madara snarls, shattering the calm. His eyes bleed red and his face twists with rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BITCH YOU THOUGHT.
> 
> Also Madara is totally the kind of person to smell people. You know I'm right.
> 
> Also, who would be interested in a GoT themed UchihaSakura story? Cause I had some ideas last night while my face was trying to kill me and boi.


	12. Without A Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't know Norse mythology half as well as I thought I did. In other news, water is wet. Big thanks to Sam for pointing that I got Munin and Hugin's names all screwed up, and giving me a great little run down of how to spell them, and some background :D
> 
> Fair warning, there is blood in this chapter and from here on out, things get fairly dark and grisly. If any sort of gore or pain is a trigger for you, PM me and I'll give you a sanitised TLDR.
> 
> Enjoy friends.

“ _You traitor_.” Madara snarls, shattering the calm. His eyes bleed red and his face twists with rage.

Shisui shoves away from his uncle just in time.

Madara’s spectral warrior, the one the men in the legion called Susanoo, explodes outward, swinging wildly at Shisui. Madara’s intent to kill is palpable.

Shisui’s own Susanoo, smaller, and green, blocks the blow, but it is still enough to send Shisui flying through the castle wall and tumbling to the ground below. His eyes burn as his Susanoo manifests fully, allowing him to land unharmed.

Madara lands on top of him, the impact destroying the garden.

They grapple, Madara’s face so twisted with anger that he is nigh unrecognisable.

“She is mine _, mine_!” Madara screams, his Susanoo shoving down with one its mighty blades. It cleaves straight through Shisui’s own Susanoo’s arm, severing the limb. The green warrior catches the next one on his shield and Shisui takes the brief reprieve to fling Munin’s stone into the air.

His faithful crow appears in a whirl of black. He caws once and then wheels off, calling for Itachi, Kakashi, anyone.

Shisui grunts as his Susanoo is tackled from behind. He is not strong enough to kill Madara alone and his spectral warrior flickers under the assault, before reforming, severed arm now returned. Still, he blocks the blows as well as he can, attacks with his lance and tries to keep the fight contained to the garden.

Already the alarm has gone up across the city.

Madara cleaves at him wildly, and one of the blows carves a rent in the Earth, knocking the green warrior back.

Madara hisses in triumph. “I’ll crush your skull, dearest nephew.” He sings. “But first, I’ll make you watch as I claim her as my own.” And then the blue warrior slams his sword down, shattering the shield of Shisui’s Susanoo.

The blow sends Shisui flying. He lands clumsily, skidding out of the way of another blow, and the another and another. It becomes a lethal game of chicken, Madara lost to his rage as he destroys the castle grounds indiscriminately.

His uncle does not let him counterattack or get too close, all too aware that one gaze from Shisui’s own red eyes will spell his end.

One blow lands too close to Shisui, knocks him off balance ever so slightly and he stumbles. Madara shrieks in triumph-

-His warrior swings it sword-

-And the blow never lands.

Shisui swears at the sight of Sasuke standing in front of him. Sasuke’s Susanoo is young, undeveloped, little more than a skeleton and it is struggling under the weight of the mighty blue sword. Shisui flings himself forward as one Sasuke’s Susanoo’s arms gives-

-And manages to yank Sasuke back, his own warrior roaring as it comes out in his defence. Madara’s Susanoo crushes Shisui’s into the ground, ancient face blank. As he cradles Sasuke, pouring more and more energy into his warrior to keep it strong, Shisui thinks his cousin will be okay.

But when he looks down, there is far too much blood. Sasuke’s left arm, his sword arm, hangs loosely, limply from the monstrous wound that cleaves his front.

“Sasuke!”

No.

Shisui turns, sees Naruto’s blond head, Sakura’s pink hair. They are on Kuro’s back, the brave horse doing his best to stand his ground, though his eyes are wild with terror. Kakashi chases after them on his own horse, the grey mare skittish.

Madara turns away from him, eyes alighting on the blond. His face splits into a manic grin. “Such luck!” He cries. “All of the little traitors coming out to dan-”

Shisui can see when Madara sees Sakura. His uncle’s body goes still, face slackening in something that looks like wonder.

Sakura’s face is cold with fury, her eyes blazing with fury and fear as she meets Shisui’s eyes across the courtyard. Naruto kicks Kuro into a gallop, and Shisui thinks that Sakura hasn’t even noticed Madara, too intent on him, on Sasuke’s crumpled form.

It enrages Madara even more.

Shisui’s green warrior tries to block the blow, but it is pushed into the ground more, form flickering under the immense weight. Madara’s blue sword hits the ground between Kuro and Shisui, cracking it.

Shisui hears Kuro scream, sees Sakura and Naruto go tumbling off his loyal companion.

Shisui strains under Madara’s hold. Sasuke is dying in his arms, front soaked with blood, hair matted with it, face too white, too blank. He pushes and pushes, but Madara is absolute in his power.

“ _Sakura_.” Madara purrs. “My love, you’ve come home at last.”

“This is not my home.” Sakura says coldly. “And I am not your love.”

Madara cocks his head. “So cruel, love. You broke my heart with those words eons ago as well. But now you have returned to me and I have my dear nephew to thank for that.” His eyes slide back to Shisui, liquid red and burning with triumph.

Shisui gasps, pain rippling through his eyes as Madara’s warrior squeezes. His green warrior strains, shield cracking and lance pushing back as best it can.

“Watch, love, as I kill him.” Madara says, calm and collected as he crushes Shisui’s Susanoo. “Will you cry I wonder? Will it break you?”

“You will not touch him!” Sakura roars, full of righteous fury. Shisui strains against Madara and then Sakura leaps forward.

She punches Madara’s Susanoo and before their eyes, it cracks under her fist. Shisui gapes and Madara gasps, stumbling back in the cage of the blue warrior’s body. There is a flash of red and a thunderous growl and then the Kyubi makes itself known, flinging a ball of energy at the old Uchiha.

Madara grunts, his assault on Shisui halted as he defends himself against Naruto and Sakura. His eyes are wide, lips parted. Sakura punches the warrior again and it shatters under her touch.

Her punch hits the ground, destroys it too, sends debris and rock flying into the air. The ground ripples under her assault, groaning and screaming as it is rent apart by force. Shisui’s warrior anchors he and Sasuke, and the Kyubi curls its tails around them protectively, holding them in place.

Madara is unharmed, but wide eyed as he leaps backward.

And then he is slammed into the ground by a red hand.

“Go!” Itachi orders as Madara’s Susanoo ripples back into life. His cousin grapples with their uncle, his own shield blocking them from Madara’s rage.

Sakura darts towards Shisui and Sasuke, hands already glowing with her healing magic as she falls on her knees beside them. Shisui clutches his baby cousin as she works, heart in his throat as he looks on helplessly.

Naruto drags himself over, face white with exertion. He should not be walking, moving or even out of bed. But he is here anyway.

“Sasuke!” The blond snarls. “Sasuke, don’t you _dare_ die.”

Sasuke’s breathing evens as Sakura’s works. Her arms are pale in the dusk, eyes focused as she knits the skin and bone back together. There is anger on her face, but it is overshadowed by worry as Sasuke’s back bows and his cousin cries with pain.

Shisui holds Sasuke tightly, feeling Naruto start to sag next to him. The blond shouldn’t be out of bed but trying to keep him out of a fight was like trying to herd kittens. Nigh impossible.

Itachi stumbles backwards, his red warrior curling in on itself protectively. He looks at Shisui, eyes wild.

Shisui understands.

They cannot kill Madara.

Not with Sasuke so close to death, not while Naruto is crippled and barely awake.

Shisui pushes Sakura’s hands away, ignoring her hiss of protest. He looks to Kakashi, but the man is already racing toward them, Kuro in tow. Shisui heaves Sasuke up, handing him to Kakashi and then turning for Naruto.

Sakura is supporting him, face drawn and fearful. Shisui pulls the blond man away from her.

Naruto fights him, slurring as Shisui secures him on Kakashi’s mare’s back.

“Lemme at him, Shi.” He demands. Shisui ignores him, ties his legs to the saddle. Beside him, Kakashi is doing the same to Sasuke on Kuro’s back.

Shisui turns to Sakura and she glares at him.

Itachi gasps behind them, almost worn down by Madara’s relentless assault. Shisui has no time for Sakura’s bullheadedness.

Not now.

“I’m not leaving-”

He doesn’t let her finish, unceremoniously dumping her onto Kuro’s back. She shrieks at him, fighting him and clawing at his arms as he ties her on. Sasuke lolls limply and she catches him automatically, torn between letting his cousin fall and getting off the horse.

“Shisui.” She begs, hands flickering green as she clings to Sasuke. She catches Shisui’s collar, pulls on it desperately. “Please, come with us.”

Shisui does not look at her. He cannot look in her eyes, not when it would weaken his resolve.

“Please-”

“Run, Kuro.” Shisui commands.

Kuro runs.

Sakura cries his name and Kakashi only looks back once, lonely eye filled with sorrow.

And Madara screams in fury behind him. Shisui turns.

He and Itachi will not win this fight. But they will give the four enough time to get away, get back to Sakura’s forest or Kakashi’s homeland.

They will die.

But Naruto would live.

It would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madara's gone and lost his damn mind. Lordy.
> 
> Next chapter is pretty grim for our handsome hero, friendos.


	13. Don't Make Me Your Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many of you reviewed! I got so excited cause most of the fanfictions I write don't get much attention. So thank you, means a lot.
> 
> This is the longest chapter to date. I struggle to write things over 2000 words, but this chapter can't really be split into two, so if the quality starts to deteriorate half way through, sorry. I'm working on that.
> 
> This is also a very graphic chapter. If blood, body horror and gore trigger you in any way, make you sick or scare you, I would advise against reading this. If you like, I can message you a version without.
> 
> Enjoy friends.

Shisui coughs, blood bubbling over his lips, curled into a ball around his broken ribs and snapped wrist. Itachi is still on the other side of the courtyard, dark hair haloed around his head, half buried in the remains of the stable.

Madara is standing between them, exhausted and left arm twisted and dislocated. The wound looks painful and Shisui feels proud of his cousin for crippling the limb, knows that it will prevent Madara from even thinking about following the four fleeing the city.

“Brats.” Their uncle snarls, furious. “I raised you, nurtured you, taught you, and this is the thanks you give me?! You hid the Namikaze heir under my nose, plot a rebellion and seek to usurp me?!” His ancestor is bloodied, eyes dark and cheeks stained red from his use of the Susanoo.

Shisui tries to get up, gasping in pain when something inside him just… _cracks_. He falls back, collapsing on his elbow and side, head bowed.

“I will kill them.” Madara growls, clutching his bleeding arm. “I will kill the blonde brat and take Sasuke’s body for my own.” He locks eyes with Shisui, triumphant and vindictive. “And Sakura will accept her place by my side.”

Shisui feels anger burn through his chest, not dissimilar to the way his own fireballs feel. “She would rather die than be with you.”

Madara’s face contorts with rage and Shisui remembers very vividly, the kiss that Sakura had given him before it had all gone to hell.

 “ _You little snake_.” Madara hisses. “You will never see her or the light of day again. She is _mine_!” And then his uncle lunges, snatching up Shisui’s abandoned blade and slashing wildly at Shisui with it.

Shisui can only lie there, jaw clenched and wait for his uncle to kill him.

He hopes that Sakura won’t be too sad.

There is a loud clang and a screech of pain from Madara.

Shisui opens his eyes. Above his chest, a faintly glowing green barrier shimmers. It glows with the same green as Sakura’s magic.

“What is this!?” Madara screams, plunging the sword down, tip first.

It bounces harmlessly off the shield.

“That little-” Madara looks up, to where the four fugitives had disappeared, already long gone. “She gave it to you?!”

Shisui has no idea what his uncle is babbling about now. And he doesn’t know anything else, for his uncle kicks him in the side of the head, knocking him out.

* * *

“Why you?!” Madara snarls, far too close to Shisui’s face. His face is twisted with pure anger, it makes his eyes glow demonically and his hands shake. “Why _you_?!”

Shisui chokes.

He can’t breathe, not with Madara’s hand around his throat, squeezing the life out of him. His vision begins to darken, good leg lashing out as far as it can with the chain in his desperation for air.

“What made you so goddamn special?!” Madara demands. “What can you give her that I can’t, that she would give you this?!”

Shisui doesn’t know what ‘this’ is. He strains against the chains, gasping. Across from him, he can see Itachi yanking at his own chains, face twisted in fury and fear.

Just when he thinks he cannot take it anymore, there is a flash of green and Madara snarls, yanking his hand away. The light swirls around Shisui’s neck for a moment, cool and soothing before it vanishes.

The skin of Madara’s hand is blistered and red, beads of red blood skating down the skin of his forearm.

The dungeons are quiet for a tense moment as their ancestor cradles his injured arm.

Then Itachi laughs, callous and taunting from the cell opposite. “Haven’t you learned, uncle?”

Madara hisses, and backhands Shisui across the face. It makes his head spin, sends a shock of pain rippling through his face and head. Shisui hears Itachi growl in fury, before the sound is interrupted by a wet cough.

Shisui hates that sound.

After their fight with Madara, Itachi’s wounds had not healed properly and every time he coughs, wet and deep, Shisui wants to tear off his chains and find help.

But he can’t.

Madara slams his head into the wall and Shisui can’t help but groan.

His uncle looks deranged as he smiles at him, holding his head still. “I can’t kill you …” He whispers, hand trailing up the side of Shisui’s face. Shisui strains, trying to get away. “But I can take these.” Madara finishes, fingers digging into the soft skin below his left eye.

Shisui thrashes, a thrill of fear shooting through him.

“Ah ah,” Madara taunts, digging his fingers in.

“You son of a-” Shisui screams, ragged and anguished as Madara tears out his left eye. The pain makes his back bow, makes every muscle lock up. It burns, like white hot fire in his head and he can feel hot blood skating down his cheeks, pooling in the now empty socket.

Vaguely, he can hear Itachi screaming as well.

“Now, now,” Madara says, as he drops Shisui’s eye into a container. “None of that, dearest nephew.”

Shisui strains away as best he can, shaking as Madara reaches for his right eye, fingers sticky and wet with hot blood.

Madara smiles at him, as if they are simply discussing the weather. “Don’t worry, your eyes will see Sakura again. I wonder if she’ll cry when she sees them.”

He snarls. “You’re a sick bastard.”

Madara rips out his right eye as punishment.

* * *

Shisui doesn’t know how long he’s been here.

Without his eyes, he can’t see the torches running low at night, can’t count the days properly. There is no night or day down here, not anymore. His ears have grown sharper without his sight, but in the stillness of the dungeons, there is nothing to hear but silence.

Itachi has grown weaker and weaker, sicker and closer to death with each minute. At first, Itachi had talked to Shisui, brought him back from his agony at having his eyes stolen so cruelly.

But slowly, slowly, Itachi had grown quiet.

And now all that Shisui can hear is Itachi’s ragged, wet breaths and the quiet, muffled sounds of coughing.

It makes him burn, inside, knowing that his cousin is dying less than five meters away. It pains him so much to know that Itachi is suffering because of him and he prays to any god that might listen.

No one seems to, for Itachi just gets quieter and quieter.

But Shisui is chained, blinded and crippled.

What can he do?

Madara hadn’t visited them for some time, so Shisui cannot even beg his uncle to take pity on Itachi, to help him. He does not think Itachi would forgive him if he fell so low, but Shisui is desperate.

No one but the terrified serving girl has visited them for a long time. Even the distant relatives that had swarmed Madara’s side in a desperate bid for power and recognition had stopped coming after Itachi had broken one of their minds with his eyes.

Shisui can only hang there, the stone cold against his back, the chains chafing at his ankles and wrists, itchy and hot with infection. His stomach is hollow with hunger and his throat dry, limbs trembling and shaking with cold and exhaustion.

His eyes ache and Shisui heaves a sigh, tilting his head back, letting it thunk against the wall behind him.

He is grateful Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke are not here to see this. Sasuke would no doubt lose any composure at the sight of his beloved brother and annoying elder cousin. Shisui imagines that Naruto would be nearly inconsolable, having looked up to Itachi like family.

And Sakura…

Shisui smiles, lips cracking and hot blood beading there. Sakura would probably hit him again, tell him to get up. He imagines her eyes, burning with determination and fire.

Something falls onto his shoulder, making him jerk in surprise.

A moment later, he hears the soft sound of something falling onto the floor. The stream of soft, silky coldness keeps slipping down his shoulder, over the rags of his old clothes and onto the floor.

The stream is not water, far too solid for that. It brushes against his skin, grainy and soft, and very, very cold. It feels almost like sand.

And then there is a strange roiling on the stream of sand or dirt on his shoulder, as if it is writhing or moving. Shisui feels something solid and hard jab into his shoulder. The stream slows and then stops altogether.

Something moves on his shoulder and Shisui stiffens, trying to strain away from whatever it is.

“Itachi-” He croaks, voice deep and raspy from disuse. “Itachi what the Hell is it?”

Itachi doesn’t answer.

Shisui’s heart races in his chest. Is this one of Madara’s sick games? A cruel prank from one of the power hungry Uchiha lordlings? Shisui imagines a scorpion, like the ones in the desert, that could kill a man without ever being seen. Or one of the blood leeches from the Mist, who’s poison paralysed you as it sucked you dry.

Whatever is on his shoulder moves, and what feels like tiny feet scurry up his shoulder, right near his face. Shisui leans away and the something cold and hard jabs him in the jaw.

“What-”

The thing jabs him once, twice more and then the little weight disappears with a quiet slither and there is the slight pressure of something slipping down his chest and falling to the cold floor.

The cell is silent for a moment.

And then Shisui feels the touch of a warm breeze and hears the shifting of sand. He tenses automatically, readying himself for a blow. His heart slows, settles into the familiar beat of battle, calm and unhurried.

He is chained and blind, but he will not let whatever it is harm Itachi.

“Calm yourself. I am a friend.” A deep voice rasps quietly, monotone but not unkind. “My sister sent me to find you.”

Sister?

Shisui doesn’t understand.

And then, it all makes sense.

The sand, the wind, sister.

Unbidden, a memory springs to mind.

_“A gift, from my brother.” Sakura says, stroking the little golem of golden sand in her hands._

Hope leaps in his heart as he searches for the immortal he hopes is standing in front of him. “Tanuki, the God of Wind? Sakura, she said, she called you…” Shisui cuts himself off, swallowing hard. He doesn’t know if Sakura’s brother would allow him to call him by his name.

Sakura had, but only after she had offered it to Shisui.

“Gaara.” The immortal says quietly. “My name is Gaara.”

Shisui relaxes, but only slightly.

“And you are Uchiha Shisui. The man who my sister blackmailed me to save.” Gaara continues. There is the sound of a soft footstep as the god of wind moves closer. “Dramatic, my sister.”

Shisui snorts, laughs at the gross understatement of Sakura. “A little.” He murmurs, imagining the way Sakura’s eyes would flash if she heard their conversation. He imagines that she would be rather unimpressed with them both.

There is fluttering in his stomach.

Excitement, hope, fear.

Sakura had sent Gaara to find him and Itachi. Did that mean they were going to finally end Madara’s reign? Was this the end to Itachi’s plan? Over ten years of planning?

“Hm.” Gaara says nothing more and then surprisingly warm hands are on Shisui’s arm, examining the chains there. They are special chains, crafted by Madara to contain Uchiha.

Shisui opens his mouth to tell the immortal that, but Gaara moves, braces his hand against Shisui’s forearm, and then yanks hard. There is a high pitched crack as the cuff is torn from his wrist. It hurts, the metal sliding painfully against the rubbed raw skin of his wrist, but for the first time in a long time, Shisui’s arm is allowed to fall by his side.

He gasps, shoulder aching and protesting at the sudden movement.

The immortal doesn’t apologise, only crouches to free Shisui’s ankles. All he says is, “Your cousin has little time.”

Shisui yelps when the shackles on his ankles are removed, stumbling away from the wall, unused to standing under his own power. Gaara yanks the last restraint away and Shisui collapses, knees week and muscles atrophied. The immortal catches him easily, pulling him up to sling an arm around his shoulder.

“You will have to walk.” The wind god says as he pulls Shisui into a stumbling walk. “I cannot carry you both.”

So Shisui sets his jaw and forces his muscles to obey. He shakes and wobbles, weak as a kitten as Gaara guides him from the cell. The Tanuki leaves him clinging to the bars of Itachi’s cell as he goes in to free Shisui’s cousin.

The bars provide stability, something to hold on to.

“How is he?” He manages to force out as he hears Itachi grunt with pain.

“I don’t know.” Gaara admits. “My sister, she’ll fix this.” Silence for a moment and then the wind god speaks again, this time from right next to Shisui. “All of this.”

The journey out of the dungeons is quiet, Shisui tense with the expectation that they would be stopped by the guard patrols or a servant, anyone at all.

But no one does.

“I do not sleep.” Gaara murmurs suddenly, arm steady under Shisui’s hand as he guides them both up, out of the lowest level of the dungeons. “But they do.”

Shisui doesn’t know what that means.

Gaara doesn’t elaborate, only walking quickly. Shisui stumbles along after him, chest tight and legs shaking. Itachi has fallen quiet again and Shisui wants to tell Gaara to go to Sakura without him, to get Itachi help before the stress becomes too much.

He has a feeling that will not go over well. Not with Gaara, not with Sakura and not with Itachi, when his cousin wakes.

Their footsteps echo on the floor and then the castle booms, shaking and shuddering under his feet. Shisui slips, stumbles and looks around wildly. His heart jumps in his chest.

“We have to hurry.” Gaara says quickly, taking Shisui’s arm.

There is a high pitched screech of fury and rage from somewhere deep in the castle. It is a sound Shisui knows well.

The Kyubi.

Which means that Sasuke is here too.

And if Gaara had been sent by Sakura…

Shisui’s heart thunders in his chest. She is here.

There is fear, fear at what Madara might do to her, to his cousin, his future king. But there is also a fierce hope. They are strong and Shisui cannot imagine they will lose.

There is another loud bang and the ground under them shudders once more, and Shisui feels his heart leap in his chest as Gaara urges them on faster. As they half run, half walk, Shisui’s legs screaming, his chest aching and burning, he feels the faintest of touches of a cool breeze on his skin.

He feels tears well in his ruined eyes as he imagines stepping outside, feeling the wind on his skin again, the sun, the rain. The grass beneath his feet, the sound of water running, of the leaves rustling, of laughter and life.

He wonders if this is what Sakura felt when she finally escaped from Madara, all those years ago.

Sakura.

The thought of her brings back a promise he made a long time ago.

_“I’ll give them back.”_

And so he tells Gaara, pulling him to a stop, babbles like a child, tripping over his words. He tries to explain, desperate to get the wings for Sakura. She had not asked for much, had come back despite all she had suffered at Madara’s hands and it is all he can do for her now.

Gaara is quiet for a very long time.

They linger, the breeze tantalising on Shisui’s face.

He wants to run, out of this choking, awful castle. But he can’t. Not yet.

Finally, “I will get them. My sister will not appreciate me dragging you around on fools errands.”

Fools errands?

There is a touch on Shisui’s arm. “Come, I will take you to our allies. Our mother is there. She can help your cousin.” He says, surety in every word. He guides Shisui, quiet and steady at his side as Shisui steps outside for the first time in who knows how long.

The stone is cold, the air frigid with ice and winter.

But it is clean, and clear and it tastes so sweet it brings tears to Shisui’s ruined eyes. He looks down, away from Gaara, even though he doesn’t even know if the other man is looking at him. He is ashamed, of being so weak that a simple breath of fresh air can make him cry, of being captured, of failing Itachi so badly.

The immortal says nothing about Shisui’s wet face, only leads him across dewy grass. Shisui stumbles, unsure and hesitant but Sakura’s brother does not falter.

“A little further.” The wind god murmurs as the castle shakes and cracks behind them. Beneath their feet, the earth bucks and groans. And then, moments later, as Shisui grows afraid that the whole thing might collapse under their feet, “Mother!”

“Gaara! You found them-”

The voice is warm and rich. It is strong and clear and reminds Shisui of Sakura’s own commanding orders, if a little harsher, just a little more confident.

“ _Bastard_.” The woman snarls, and Shisui hears the shift of clothing, a faint groan from Itachi. “Quickly, put him here.” She commands.

Shisui sways, as Gaara moves away and he flounders. He feels lost, useless, like a child. He can’t help, can’t see anything, can’t move. He doesn’t even know where he is, or who these people are and the frustration of it all makes him fist his hands, makes his jaw clench.

His heart thumps heavily in his chest.

Gaara says something to his mother, the same rippling language that Sakura had spoken before.

It sounds like music.

A whisper of sand later, and Gaara is gone.

“Come. Sit.” Sakura and Gaara’s mother barks and there is a surprisingly gentle hand on his wrist, tugging him forward and pulling him down to the grass. “Standing there swaying like some sort of dying weed.”

Shisui slumps, shaking and weak. He curls his fingers in the wet grass, grateful for the anchor. It doesn’t seem real. “Itachi…” He rasps.

“A fighter.” The woman says. “He will not die tonight, Uchiha Shisui. You have my word.”

Shisui turns away from her voice, biting down hard on his lip. He doesn’t understand. Why are they helping him? He comes a lineage stained with blood, had fought in bloody wars that killed innocents, had given Madara his eyes. “Why?”

“Not for you.” She says, but there is nothing unkind in her words. “My daughter asks for little. But she asked me to save you. And I will. For her.”

“I don’t deserve-”

“I will be the judge of that. Now quiet, I have work to do.”

Shisui sits there, holding onto the grass as she works. He can hear Itachi’s ragged breaths, the loud cracks and booms as Sakura, Sasuke and Naruto take on his uncle. He can hear the castle collapsing, the screams of horses in the stables, the alarm blaring across the city.

She works in silence, the roars of Madara’s and Sasuke’s Susanoo and Naruto’s Kyubi the backdrop to it. Shisui creeps closer to where he thinks they are, can hear Itachi shifting, in pain or in wakefulness, Shisui isn’t sure.

It seems only like moments before there is another whisper of sand and wind.

“Well then.” Sakura and Gaara’s mother says, voice mildly surprised.

Shisui jerks at the brush of something soft against his shoulder, realises what it is and shoves himself up. He struggles, arms weak but he straightens anyway. Behind him, he hears the woman healing Itachi sigh something in exasperation.

Gaara says nothing, only presses something into Shisui’s arms.

The feathers are soft and cool under his fingers and Shisui tries to remember what Sakura’s wings look like. Gold and silver and white. But he can’t remember the shape or the size. He clutches them to his chest, gently as he can.

He feels regret that he won’t ever see Sakura fly.

And then, with a whisper and a sigh, the wings in his hand crumble into dust. They harden under his fingers and then crack and Shisui cries out, loosening his grip, suddenly afraid he had been gripping too tightly.

But it is too late.

The wings disintegrate, slip between his fingers and fall to the grass beneath his feet.

“I thought so.” Gaara murmurs.

Shisui panics, grabbing at the dust, at the feathers, at anything. He had _promised_. He had promised Sakura he would give them back- And they were gone, right between his fingers. He staggers, head whipping around though he cannot see.

_What had he done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloop.
> 
> Poor Shisui. Broke my heart to hurt the little roll of sunshine, but alas, he needs his knight in shining armour to come and rescue him somehow right?
> 
> Let me know what you think.


	14. With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, I had some issues finishing this chapter.

Shisui searches the grass at his knees desperately, fingers feeling for feathers, anything to tell him that the wings he’d promised Sakura aren’t truly gone.

But all he feels are grains of dirt and the cool, slippery grass.

A gentle hand pulls his from the dirt. “Enough.” Gaara and Sakura’s mother commands. “They are gone.”

“I promised!” He cries, aware he is making too much noise.

She shushes him with a hand on his forehead. “Sakura made a choice. She gave them up for you, to keep you safe from that bastard you call uncle.” Her voice deepens at the mention of Madara, but Shisui barely notices it, trying to understand her words.

“What?”

Her hand on his forehead shifts away. “It’s not my place to explain. But you must not stress yourself anymore.” She says, before muttering something in that strange language she, Gaara and Sakura speak.

The Wind God responds in kind and then Shisui flinches when there is a draft of warm air and the scratch of sand on his arm.

“Come.” The Healer murmurs. “Sit by your cousin. He needs your strength.”

Shisui feels numb as she guides him over to Itachi. She places Itachi’s limp hand in his and Shisui moves his fingers automatically, groping around for a pulse. It is there, sluggish and unsteady, but it is there.

He tries to understand what she had meant, when she had said Sakura had given her wings up for him. But the implications make his head hurt, make his breath come too quickly. So instead, he focuses instead on Itachi’s pulse under his fingers, growing stronger by the moment.

The sounds of battle become a dull roar in the background as Sakura’s mother finishes her work. Her magic hums.

He isn’t sure quite how long they sit there, but eventually, he comes back to himself, calmer now. He hears that the sounds of fighting have settled, and now all he can hear are the cries of the townspeople, the settling of rock and wood, the crackling of flames.

“Looks like its well and truly over.” Sakura’s mother mutters. “I wonder…”

“Granny!”

The woman makes a hissing noise. “That brat.” She snarls. “No respect, whatsoever!”

Shisui knows that rambunctious, loud voice. He struggles up, straining his neck as he desperately tries to open his eyes to see Naruto. But there is only darkness.

“You missed it!” Naruto calls and Shisui turns his head, hearing the someone crashing through the undergrowth nearby. “We beat that old creep into the-” A quick inhale, the snap of a twig. And then- “Shisui?”

Shisui takes a tiny step forward and then he is tackled around the middle. The impact knocks him clean off his feet and he and Naruto tumble backwards, back into the grass.

“Naruto!” Sakura’s mother scolds loudly.

Naruto’s arm is almost choking around his neck and he is squeezing far too tightly. But Shisui doesn’t mind, because he is hugging the young prince back just as tightly, hand fisted in the cloak at Naruto’s back.

The heir to the throne is blubbering dramatically, wetting the rags of Shisui’s shirt. “I was so worried!” He wails, headbutting Shisui in the chin.

“Good lord, and you’re the supposed to be the king?” Shisui hears Gaara and Sakura’s mother sigh.

Shisui doesn’t mind the dramatics, or the fact that his jaw hurts too now. The noise Naruto is making is a welcome change from the oppressive silence of the dungeons, takes his mind off of just how close he and Itachi had come to dying.

“I told Kakashi you wouldn’t die!” Naruto says fiercely. “I _told_ him!”

“You’re going to squash him- Get off.” The raspy, strong voice of Sakura’s mother says, right above them and Shisui jerks, having not heard her move. She sounds exasperated.

Naruto’s weight is pulled off of him, but Shisui feels the blond snatch his wrist tightly. He is holding so tightly, Shisui isn’t sure if it is to reassure himself, or Shisui.

“Idiots.” She mutters once she is finished. “If anyone wants to regain their sense, I’ll be over here… _Helping_.”

“I’m helping!” Naruto insists.

“Oh whatever. Just come help me with this one when you’re done being an idiot.”

Shisui tries to hear her footsteps as she walks away, but there is nothing but the rustling of wind and Naruto’s steady breaths at his side.

“We saw them…” Naruto says after a moment, voice very dark and cold. “Madara… He had your eyes and… and we thought that you- Sakura told us how he stayed alive so long… We thought he’d taken you too.”

Shisui knows what the blond is talking about. He imagines what it must have looked like to them, seeing his eyes staring at them from Madara’s face. He doesn’t know how to comfort the bubbly man. What can he say?

This was not how he meant for things to go.

“Sasuke lost it.” Naruto tells him. “I thought he was going to destroy the whole city. And if Sakura hadn’t been there… I might have-”

Shisui rips his wrist away from Naruto, fisting his hand in the blond’s shirt instead. “But you didn’t.” He says. He cannot bear to hear the self-hatred in Naruto’s voice. He knows well enough, the guilt the blond feels for the things the Kyubi has done.

“Heh.” Naruto sounds a bit choked up. “You’re right, I didn’t.”

“And you killed Madara anyway-”

“ _Naruto_!”

Shisui sits up, hand falling from Naruto’s shirt. He strains his ears, turning his head in his desperation to hear footsteps, anything at all.

“Naruto, you can’t just run off like that! What if there were traps?!”

_Sakura_.

“I’m too clever to fall into a trap!” Naruto whines.

“Oh please-”

Shisui hears her footsteps, light on the grass, stop. He pushes Naruto away, uses the blond to stand up. Naruto laughs behind him and rises as well, clothes and armour rustling and clanking.

“That way.” Naruto murmurs, turning Shisui’s head a little to the right to the right. Shisui can hear the note of anger there but says nothing. “I’m gonna go see if the old bat needs help.”

No one says anything, but Naruto doesn’t seem to mind, walking away noisily, humming.

For a long time, it is very quiet.

The grass is slippery under his feet as he takes a careful, tentative step in the direction Naruto had turned his head. “Sakura?” He calls, wondering if she had left at the sight of him. There is fear in him, fear that maybe she had decided against whatever it was they were building all those years ago.

He hears a strangled sob and it tears at his heart.

“Sakura-” The fall in the grass with Naruto had been too much and he stumbles, groping for anything to hold on to. He staggers and then there are soft hands on his arms, on his back.

“Hey.” Sakura murmurs, voice thick, guiding him back to the ground.

Shisui hates how weak he is. It burns, something fierce that he is stumbling and falling like a child, incapable to doing anything by himself.

Sakura’s hands are gentle on his cheeks as she guides his face up. “I’ve got you.” She says. And then her fingers tighten and Shisui hears her inhale as she sees the bloody mess of his eyes, the careless way Madara had torn them out.

He is almost glad he can’t see her face, the pity there. He hates the way that Itachi’s voice is always tinged with it and knows he would hate to see it on her face even more. “They don’t hurt.” He tries to reassure her.

It is the wrong thing to say, because she sobs, ragged and angry. “God you, stupid, stupid man.” She says, “Why are you always so stupid?”

Shisui jerks a little when one of her thumbs swipes over his cheek, just under his left eye. He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by the familiar ripple of her magic on his skin. It flows through him, soothes the ache in his head that had been there since Madara had stolen his eyes, cools the hot itch of the empty sockets.

“You’re so stupid.” She murmurs.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” She cries. “It’s not! None of this was supposed to happen! You were supposed to be okay!”

Shisui doesn’t know what to say to her. Her hands shake on his face and he wishes he could comfort her better. He raises a hand, feels his way clumsily to her wrist. He pulls her hand away from his cheek, laces their fingers together. “I kept my promise.” He says. “I came back.”

Sakura makes a strangled noise, half a sob, half a hysterical laugh, squeezes his hand back. “You are the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met.” She says, voice thick.

They sit in silence for a few moments and Shisui remembers Sakura’s wings, the ones that had turned to dust and ash in his hands. “Sakura, your wings, I tried, we went to get them and they…” He doesn’t know how to tell her, “In my hands, they just turned into dust-” He is stopped by a hand over his mouth.

Sakura sighs, fond and exasperated. “Later.” She says. “It’s not important right now.” Her hand slides down from his cheek, to the side of his throat, like all those years ago. “Right now, I’m going to get your eyes back.”

He jerks under her hands. “What? Madara is dead-”

“Not quite.” Sakura murmurs. She squeezes his hand. “He lives, and he will atone for what he’s done.” She shifts, and he feels a tug on his arm. He lets her guide him up, putting a little too much weight on her arm, but she doesn’t complain.

Their journey is slow as Sakura leads him in a meandering path, through the grass and then onto rough and cold stone. His own body is weak and tired after his captivity and she stops a few times to let him rest, free hand carding through his matted and dirty hair gently.

“Slowly does it.” She murmurs as she guides him over something. It is a slab of castle, or stone, cracked and ruined beneath his feet. Finally, after a long while and just when Shisui thinks he might need to stop again, Sakura brings him to a halt.

There is the sound of a pebble hitting the ground, of something sliding across the ground. He stiffens, but Sakura stills him with a careful hand.

“He’s restrained.” She murmurs, pulling him closer to what must be Madara.

“Love…” His uncle croaks, sounding his true age for once. There is no more silky velvet in his voice, no more commanding presence or menace, only resignation. “You came back to see me.”

“Not you.” Sakura says coldly. She pushes on Shisui’s shoulder, gets him to kneel.

Shisui yanks his arm away when it brushes something soft and Madara laughs cruelly.

“Have I broken you, dearest nephew? You jump and cower at the merest touch of your favourite uncle.”

“Shut up.” Sakura hisses. Her hand tightens on Shisui’s for the barest moment and then slips away. And then to Shisui, she says, “Don’t listen.”

“You’ve finally come to your senses then, Sakura-” Madara’s words break off into a strangled scream of agony and Shisui hears the wet squelch of something.

The sound is so familiar.

It was the same sound he had heard, the same sound that echoed through his ears each night. The sound of an eye being pulled out.

“You’re a monster.” Sakura says, furious and cold. “You take, and you take, and you take. Everything that you have, everything that you are, it is all because of someone else’s hard work.”

Madara only groans in response. His breath sounds ragged, pained, and Shisui wishes he could not hear it. He knows the pain of having one’s eyes removed, would not wish it on anyone. But there is a part of him, still angry and screaming in fury and the unfairness of it all, that relishes in Madara’s pain.

_Good_. That part whispers. _Good_.

Sakura’s hands return to his face, wet and sticky. “I’m sorry.” She murmurs, “But I have to do it here.”

Shisui opens his mouth to respond but he can’t, because Sakura opens his eyelid and there is a sharp shock of pain. He tries to pull away, but her hands don’t let him. It hurts, stings and burns like acid in his eyes.

Sakura murmurs an apology and there is the familiar feeling of her magic rippling through his skin. He is tense, still in pain.

And then there is a blinding pain in his skull as Sakura _pushes_.

He can’t help the cry of pain and vaguely, he feels Sakura’s magic rippling through his temple. It soothes, but there is too much pain, hot and heavy as she heals the torn connections, repairs the nerves Madara had ripped apart.

And then it is over.

Shisui gasps raggedly, falling forward onto his palm. Sakura whispers more apologies, supporting him easily.

“One more.” Sakura tells him, one hand closing over his eye when he tries to open it. “Just one more.”

He leans on her, hears Madara start to plead for her not to take the other one.

“Love, love, _please_. You don’t understand, I needed them-”

Sakura says nothing, but there is a cold kind of fury in her body as he hears Madara scream again. Shisui keeps his forehead on the side of hers, no doubt getting blood in her hair, ignoring Madara’s babbling.

It hurts almost more than the first time she did it. But he bears the pain as well as he can, focusing on the soothing curl of her magic, the touch her palms on his face. She heals him longer this time, whispering for him to keep his eyes closed as she heals the damage.

He almost misses the coolness of her magic when she pulls away.

His eyes itch.

He hears her rustling around and opens his eyes.

It burns and stings something fierce, but it is worth it to see his uncle, beaten and near death.

Madara lies in a pile of rubble, buried up to his waist. His face is bruised, long hair that he loved so religiously, sprawled around him like ink. His face is tipped up to the sky, eyes empty and bleeding and his chest heaves with pain.

“Have I broken you, uncle?” He taunts cruelly.

Madara snarls and Sakura snatches Shisui’s wrist, yanking his attention back to her.

She looks even more stunning than the first time he saw her. Her face is sharper, thinner than it used to be, eyes harder in her face, glittering with anger and worry. Her hair is longer now and leftfree, matted with blood, but still vibrant in the night. His breath is stolen by the strength in every line of her.

“I told you to keep them shut!” She scolds, reaching forward to close his eyes. Shisui makes a sound of protest but lets her tie a strip of fabric around his eyes. The darkness immediately brings relief, but he wishes that he had a moment longer. “They’re still sensitive, you need to let them rest.”

“Sakura. Shisui.”

He turns, feels Sakura do the same, at the sound of Sasuke’s voice. His cousin sounds older, jaded and cold. It is not something Shisui cares for. He doesn’t like the anger in Sasuke’s tone, can only imagine his face.

“Go find the others.” Sasuke commands.

Sakura helps Shisui up, one arm braced around his middle. “What are you going to do?” She asks.

“Nothing more than he deserves.” Sasuke hisses.

Madara laughs wetly behind them.

Sakura shifts at Shisui’s side. He wishes he could open his eyes but isn’t willing to risk be elbowed or punched by an irate Sakura. “Here, take this.” She says.

Then she leads Shisui away. As they pass Sasuke, Shisui gropes for Sasuke. His younger cousin grabs his hand, squeezing far too tightly. Shisui can’t help but clutch at Sasuke as well. His cousin feels strong under his fingers, muscles tight with tension.

“Do not be like him.” Shisui tells Sasuke. “A clean kill.”

Sasuke’s breath jumps at his words, his fingers tensing around Shisui’s. Finally, after a few long minutes, he relaxes. “I know.”

Shisui lets Sakura pull him away then, leans on her. While his eyes have been healed, it was painful, and he is more exhausted than ever now. He would like nothing more than to find a nice patch of grass to sleep on.

“We have rooms, in one of Kakashi’s contacts houses.” Sakura tells him.

Shisui can’t help but sag against Sakura as they walk. He feels more tired than ever now, every muscle aching and his head throbbing something fierce. Sakura murmurs encouragement as they walk, fingers gentle and soothing on his arm.

It takes a long time before Sakura stops, pulling him to a halt next to her. By now, Shisui is feeling distinctly light headed but he soldiers on anyway.

There is a familiar snort and then a slobbery, wet mouth nuzzles at Shisui’s face, snuffling over his cheek and temple. Kuro mouths at Shisui’s hair, no doubt adding to the grime and dirt caked into the strands.

Shisui laughs.

His faithful companion had come back.

His laughter turns strangled and he pulls away from Sakura, stumbling forward blindly. He trips but Kuro is there, strong and steady under his hands and Shisui clutches his strong neck, pressing his face into his mane.

“He missed you a lot.” Sakura says from behind him, voice thick. “He bit Naruto and Sasuke so many times.”

His temperamental, grumpy horse is patient, bunting his head against Shisui’s a few times. Finally, after a few long minutes, Shisui lets Kuro go. Kuro makes a huffing noise, pressing against Shisui’s hand.

Sakura doesn’t say anything to Shisui, only wipes his wet face with her hands. She pulls him around to Kuro’s side, his horse seeming to understand that Shisui couldn’t handle any of his antics right now and stands perfectly still.

Shisui pulls himself into the saddle, the movement practiced, but not easy with his weak muscles. Sakura pulls herself up in front of him a moment later.

“Just a little further.” She murmurs to him, pulling his arm around to her front. Shisui clenches his hand in her shirt. Under them, Kuro moves into a trot, jolting Shisui. It makes his joints ache, but he just grits his teeth and bears the pain.

It just gets worse as Sakura urges Kuro into a canter and his head jolts with every step. He can’t help but sway in the saddle.

Sakura is very warm in front of him and Shisui tries to focus on the tight grip of her hand.

He fails and slumps heavily against her, exhausted and spent. He hears her call his name, but his mouth isn’t working particularly well and soon, he just lets it all slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the kind comments guys!
> 
> Enjoy!

When Shisui wakes, he is lying on something soft. His fingers find a thick blanket tucked around him. His mouth is dry and there is a pounding ache between his eyes. He lies there for a moment, appreciating the warmth of the blanket, the plushness of the pillow behind his head.

The makeshift blindfold Sakura had made him is gone, instead there is only a damp towel draped over his eyes. He can’t find the energy to move it.

Somewhere, he can hear laughter, the sound of clanking pots, singing. To him, it sounds sweet.

He had only heard Itachi’s wheezing and the drip of stagnant water on cold floors for so long.

It lulls him into quiet contemplation, and he settles deeper into the mattress. Sleep pulls at him and he doesn’t fight it, only slips into a dream of bright eyes, laughter and green magic that feels like water on his skin.

When he wakes the second time, it is because there is a hand on his forehead.

This time, his headache is gone, but his mouth is still dry.

“Hello.” Sakura murmurs, voice almost silent. Her fingers slip through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He hums, enjoying the feeling. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He licks his lips, swallows. “It’s okay.” He rasps. His voice is harsh, much louder than hers.

Sakura hums quietly and her hand slips from his hair, instead pulling the damp cloth from his eyes. “Here.” She says, one hand slipping under his shoulder. “You’re dehydrated.”

Shisui opens his eyes carefully. They don’t sting this time. Instead, they are blurry and itchy, and he blinks a few times, trying to get them to open fully.

“Give it time.” She tells him as she helps him sit up.

Shisui accepts the cup she hands him, letting his eyes close with a sigh. He had only caught a glimpse of the dark room, the hideous orange knitted blanket pooled around his waist, the flash of pink out of the corner of his eye.

“Little sips.” Sakura says sternly. “I’ll throw you out the window if you vomit on me.”

Shisui can’t help a smile but does as she says. “Where are we?” He asks in between sipping the cool water.

“At Kakashi’s friend’s house.” Sakura says, putting a very strange emphasis on the word friend. He can just hear the smile in her voice. “It’s a little cramped so Naruto and Sasuke are sleeping outside.”

Shisui smiles at the thought of the two bickering boys. He pauses, and then supposes that neither Sasuke or Naruto are children anymore. “I bet that went over well.”

“My mother can be rather terrifying.” She says, voice fond. “There was minimal screaming.”

They sit in silence for a long time, her hand in his. She is squeezing too tightly, like she’s afraid to let go. He can’t help but do the same. Finally, she sighs, thumb brushing over the back of his hand.

“I suppose I should explain.” She says finally, voice reluctant.

Shisui lowers the cup. It is half full now, warming slowly from his hands. He doesn’t quite understand.

“My wings.”

His eyes open without his permission and he blinks a few times, screwing them up as his vision adjusts, blurry and hot. Finally though, he can see clearly. Sakura is sitting at his bedside, dressed in a simple green shirt and blue skirt. Behind her, he can see another bed, Itachi’s dark head turned away from them both.

“Sakura-”

She smiles at him in exasperation. “Hush.” She says. “Let me talk.”

He subsides, sets his cup on the table at the bedside, gives her his full attention.

“I gave you protection.” Sakura says quietly, a strange tone to her voice. “Simple magic, one that would keep you from physical harm.”

Shisui tries to think. “When?” He finally manages.

She smiles at her knees. “After we kissed, that day.” She says, cheeks reddening. It is a lovely sight in the moonlight streaming through the window. “I felt so terrible about you going back to the castle. I knew something bad would happen, but I didn’t want to burden you.”

Shisui feels a bit stupid. The kiss was simply a conduit for her spell? “Oh.” Is all he says. “So then… The kiss, it was only because you needed to touch me for the spell to take hold?” He asks weakly, wondering how he could have misread the situation so badly.

Sakura’s eyes snap to him.

And when she laughs at him, delighted and happy, he can’t help but feel a bit offended as well.

“Oh you stupid man.” She giggles, covering her mouth. When he looks away, folding his arms, she sighs fondly.

Shisui lets her take his face in her hands, like she did when she had asked him to come back to her. They trace the same path they had all those years ago, slipping from his face and bracing against his bare chest.

“Here.” She says. “I cast it here.”

And then Shisui understands. Her hands had been warm that day, leaving his skin strangely cold when she had let go. The warmth had been her protection spell. And now he feels more than a little bit stupid.

Sakura smiles at him, tongue between her teeth. “Stupid.” She teases.

“I do try.” He says back. Her eyes look like they are glowing again.

Her expression sobers a little. “It drew on my own strength.” She said. “I thought it would be enough to get you out, but then you…” Her jaw tightens. “ _You sent me away_ and I couldn’t maintain the spell over such a large distance.”

Shisui won’t apologise for his actions that day. Sets his jaw and prepares to argue with her. But she doesn’t seem interested in pursuing it.

“So the spell drew on the only part of me left in the Capital.” Sakura continues, eyes falling half closed. “My wings were a part of me, imbued with my magic. But there wasn’t enough, and that was why he was able to hurt you.” Her voice cracks on her last words, as her eyes fill with tears.

Her hands fall away from his face, scrubbing at her own roughly. Her sobs are silent, her shoulders high and head bowed. Shisui reaches for her, unable to find the words to comfort her.

She is stiff under his hands but lets him pull her to him anyway.

“I saw… I saw your eyes looking back at me, from Madara’s face.” She says, voice thick with tears and grief. “But there was _nothing_ in them that was you. It was only cruelty and insanity and I thought he had killed you, even with my spell.”

He holds her, and feels her fingers skate over his bare chest, skimming over his ribs and the bruises on his skin. “I’m sorry.”

She headbutts him, enough to knock his shoulder back. “You shouldn’t have sent me away.” She says, but there is no anger in her voice, only fond resignation. After a moment, she pulls away, and Shisui already misses the warmth of her.

She wipes her face with her sleeve. “I knew my wings would give power to the protection spell.” She said. “I could have stopped it, could have let the spell lapse. But you would have died, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

Shisui understands what Sakura’s mother had meant now and the weight of what Sakura had done for him settles onto his shoulders. He lets his hand slip from her arm. “Why would you do that?” He asks, horrified.

She smiles at him, watery and weak. “It was you.” Is all she says.

“I…” Shisui struggles to find the right thing to say. “Sakura, why would you… I can’t be worth tha-”

She slaps him.

It hurts, stings and he gasps, head thrown to the side. He cups his cheek, looking at her in shock. Her eyes are narrowed into slits, hand still raised from where she hit him. She looks furious and Shisui thinks it should not be nearly as stunning as it is.

“What was that for?” He demands, trying to control the volume of voice, aware of Itachi asleep in the other bed.

She glares at him, lowering her arm stiffly. “You don’t get to decide what is worth it.” She says coldly.

He stares at her, stunned.

“Don’t belittle my decision.” She says, and Shisui’s hears the tinge of pleading in her voice. “I know what I did. And I don’t regret it. I chose to do it, chose to let them die, because the alternative wasn’t something I could live with.”

Shisui blinks at her and then looks at the blanket. There are fat little foxes, snakes and slugs embroidered around the edges. “I can’t… I can’t ever repay something like that, Sakura.”

She pulls his hand away from his face, turning him to face her again. She is smiling again. “I didn’t ask you to.”

Her hand glows green and then the hot stinging of his cheek is soothed by the coolness of her healing magic.

“ _Men_.” She whispers.

Shisui smiles. “Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t write it very well, but the whole protection magic actually was written into Chapter 11. I tried to keep it subtle, because Shisui wasn’t meant to notice it, but I think I may have made it too subtle. Oh well.  
> Also, throwback to chapter 4 :D  
> This had another ending, where they were going to smooch but Itachi ‘wakes up’ and interrupts it, but it seemed more natural to end it here.  
> One more chapter to go my friends. I do have another fic planned after this… Though I can’t decide what to focus on.   
> 1\. An untitled ItaSaku - Modern day AU, wherein Itachi's life was planned from birth, from his school, to the grades he would get and the car he would drive. And then one day, he deviates from that plan, meets a crazy girl who sells donuts and laughs too loud and figures out what makes him happy.
> 
> 2\. Provocation (ShiSaku) - Sakura investigates a disturbing increase in the black market organ trade in Konoha while trying to reconcile her strength and her femininity. A masked ANBU with a penchant for strong women and a silver tongue isn't helping matters.
> 
> 3\. Sugar (SasuSaku) - Being a resident of the tiny, derelict city of Oto, Kizashi Haruno isn't eligible for Medicare in Konoha, and his cancer bills are stacking up. Sakura is forced to choose, her education to become a surgeon or her father. Ino has a rather... Unorthodox solution.
> 
> Vote for which one you want (just leave the ship name in your review) and whichever gets the most votes will be what I focus on. It might be some time though.
> 
> Thank you for reading everyone and let me know what you think!


	16. Dark Horse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 12:50am and I am not tired. At all.
> 
> Anyway, got excited and finished this early and decided you guys could have it early.
> 
> Also, thanks to all of you who voted! I got so many reviews (though I cheated a lil bit by asking you to vote) and it made me all fuzzy and warm inside. ShiSaku won out with 12 votes (across both ff and here ), with ItaSaku getting 7 and SasuSaku getting 1 (D:). So, that's the order I'll write them in then. I changed the name of the ShiSaku story, but the overarching plot stays the same.
> 
> A few of you suggested I do an ItaSakuShi and BOI I WISH. I ain't that talented tho and I would probably end up focusing very heavily on one character over the other and it just wouldn't be fair.
> 
> Anyway, enough of my rambling. Please enjoy.

The next morning, Shisui wakes alone.

He had tried to stay awake with Sakura, but given his still weak state, it was too much for him and he had fallen back to sleep not long after their conversation. He regrets it, but only a little.

Itachi is still sleeping, but there is a new cloth on his forehead and a glass of water on the table beside his bed.

Shisui lies in the warm bed for a few moments before deciding he can't stand to be stuck in another small room again. So he sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed.

He feels lighter, the aches in his muscles gone, and strength returned to his hands and legs. He wonders if Sakura had healed him again.

Even with the newfound strength in his legs, he is still weak and wobbly, and it takes him a frustratingly long time to get up. But he does. And he walks across the room, unaided, for the first time in years.

It tastes like triumph.

The little house is quiet. Itachi sleeps, skin flush with health now, but there are still deep circles under his eyes, stress still in the lines of his forehead and mouth.

Shisui touches Itachi's arm, just briefly, just to reassure him that this isn't a dream.

The door to the tiny room creaks open and he turns, looks up. There is a beautiful blonde woman standing in the doorframe. Her hair frames her face the same way Sakura's does and she has the same mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

The lilac diamond on her forehead gleams in the light.

This must be Sakura's mother.

"Thought I heard someone stumbling around up here." The blonde woman says before he can say anything. She beckons to him abruptly. "Get dressed and leave your poor cousin alone."

Shisui looks around, sees that he's missed the neatly folded shirt and jacket on the end of his bed. The woman huffs.

"And hurry up, you're too skinny." She says shortly before she leaves the room, closing the door with a firm click.

Shisui snorts. Sakura's mother indeed. He looks at Itachi again, and then moves away to dress himself. Itachi looked peaceful and Shisui doesn't want to ruin that, not again. Not yet.

As he pulls on his clothes, he feels every rib and the hollow dip above his hip bones. Despite it, he isn't hungry. He knows though, that he has to eat and imagines Sakura's scolding reminders to eat slowly.

The house is silent when he emerges from the room. There is a hallway to his right, closed doors lining it, and stairs to his left. He has to clutch the banister much more tightly than he would have liked to, but he makes it down eventually.

The blonde woman is standing in the kitchen, hands moving quickly over a bowl. She turns to see him come in and flaps a hand at the roughly hewn seats around the table. He takes one, wondering if she had the same short temper as Sakura. From what he knows of her, she does.

"You look awful." She says bluntly, shoving the bowl into his hands. There is a mixture of berries and mushy oats in it, drowned in milk. "That's all you're getting. I am not having another idiot vomiting on me."

Shisui has to suppress a smile at that. "Thank you…?"

"Tsunade."

Shisui nearly drops the bowl in shock. When he regains his wits, he scrambles to lower his head in deference.

She scoffs. "Stop that, you look ridiculous." She snaps. "Don't bow to me, boy. I don't care for all that stupidity."

He clutches the bowl, confused and a little awed by the woman standing in front of him. One of the legendary Sannin, the immortal goddess of healing and wine. He is very aware now of her true power.

Tsunade fills a clay cup with water. "I suppose Sakura never told you." She says. "The resemblance is uncanny, no?" She says as she leans against the counter, watching him with sharp eyes and a mysterious smile.

Shisui can't help but agree. "I feel a bit stupid for not noticing it."

"Bah, she's not my biological daughter." She tells him, eyes sharp and amused. "Neither of my children are."

Shisui blinks. "I don't… Then why does she look like you?"

She seems flattered by that. "Her mother was my cousin. I took Sakura in after they… Gaara too."

"Then they're siblings?"

"Not by blood." The Slug Princess sighs. "I'm not doing a very good job at explaining this, am I? I may not have borne them, but they _are mine_." She says, and there is the faintest defensiveness to her voice.

Shisui doesn't say anything about that, clutching his bowl of oats.

She gestures at them impatiently. "Eat. My daughter will fuss if she gets home and I've starved you to death." She flaps her hand at him. "Eat, eat. You and that poor cousin of yours are far too skinny."

There is a strange sort of maternal care to her. Harsh and abrupt but caring all the same. Shisui smiles into his bowl, picks up the spoon and takes a careful bite.

It is mushy and a bit cold, but after nothing for so long, it tastes like heaven.

"Slowly!" She scolds when he tries to shove another bite in his mouth immediately. "You'll make yourself sick. There's more than enough to go around."

Shisui takes slower bites. They sit in silence for a few moments, his spoon clanking against the bowl as he eats, his movements slow. The oats taste lovely, but he is careful to pace himself. Soon enough, he finds that he is full, and the bowl isn't even half empty yet.

"Hm." Tsunade murmurs, leaning over the table to look into his bowl. "I thought so. You have a long recovery ahead of you… Both of you." Her expression darkens, her eyes sympathetic and frustrated all at the same time. "Bastard."

Shisui pushes the bowl away. "Where are the others?" He asks, avoiding the subject of Madara altogether. He doesn't know when he'll be able to face it, but now, sitting in a sunny kitchen with the birds singing outside, is not the time.

"Sakura is out with that idiot of a future king." Tsunade says. "He can't be trusted- the last time we sent him out for food he spent the entire purse on Ramen!"

Shisui can't help a smile. That sounds exactly like something Naruto would do.

She gives him a long look, face unreadable. And then she smiles.

It looks very much like Sakura's.

"You'll do well." She says.

Shisui waits for her to threaten him. He had heard the threats that Kakashi's antics had garnered, knows that families are protective of their children. He imagines that an immortal will be no different.

But she doesn't, only sips her drink quietly.

"I thought… You… I'm an Uchiha-"

She looks at him over the rim of her cup. "And?"

"Well I just…"

"I told you that I would be the judge of who you are, Uchiha Shisui." The legendary Sannin says. She hums, dumping her water in the sink. "My daughter trusts you, was willing to face down a monster for you and _that_ , to me, means more than any name you might bear."

Shisui wonders if this is where Sakura got her strange sense of morals from.

She smiles at him again. "You were distraught over my daughter's wings – not many men would remember a promise made three years ago. You'll do well." And then she brushes past him, a hand brushing over his shoulder briefly.

He sits there, a strange feeling blooming in his chest. He doesn't quite understand it but it feels almost like coming home.

He hears her pause. "Your cousin is outside, brooding, I presume."

There is an expectation there and Shisui understands what she is telling him to do. She walks away, up the stairs and Shisui looks out the front window. Sasuke is sitting under a tree, staring at his hands, dark cloak thrown over one shoulder.

He looks pitifully small there.

It takes him longer than he would like to hobble outside, but he makes it eventually. Sasuke watches him walk across the grass but doesn't get up to help. Shisui appreciates it. He dislikes being so weak. Having Sasuke coddle him would only make it worse.

He eases down next to Sasuke and for a long while, neither of them say anything. It is a warm day and Shisui basks in the dappled sunlight. He likes this. It is very peaceful, almost reminiscent of their days as children.

Finally, Sasuke shifts. "I have something of yours." He says lowly, reaching for his hip.

Shisui looks down as Sasuke holds out a very familiar black and gold sheath. The hilt of his beloved dagger glints in the sunlight, lovingly polished, the leather of the sheath soft and oiled recently. He takes it gently.

Sasuke isn't looking at him, but at the ground, expression anguished. "Sakura took care of it, while you were… Away." He says, voice strained and tight.

Shisui can hear the difficulty Sasuke is having with the words. He doesn't say anything. Sasuke just needs a little time.

"She gave it to me… That night." Sasuke says. He shakes his head, long hair falling over his eyes. "I was going to strangle him. I wanted to hurt him _so badly_ for what he did. To Itachi, to you, to Sakura, to all of us."

Sasuke's fist clenches on his knee, and he tosses his head back, so he is looking at the sky. His jaw is taut, but Shisui waits.

"If you hadn't reminded me of who… Of who we are, I might have done it." Sasuke admits. "It was cleaner, kinder than he deserved. But I'm not him."

Shisui puts a hand on Sasuke's shoulder, dagger forgotten in his lap. "You did good, Sasuke."

His cousin smiles, almost like he did when he was a little brat, running around with a snot nose and too big clothes. "Idiot."

* * *

The rest of the day passes quickly.

When Sakura returns from her excursion with Kakashi, Naruto and the owner of the house, a smiling man called Yamato, she ushers Shisui back upstairs with a glower.

"You can't be traipsing all around in your condition!" She says, poking him in the arm. "You need to rest."

Itachi is still sleeping when she chases him into the small bedroom. Shisui checks Itachi's breathing, still scarcely believing that his cousin will live. Sakura lets him have that and then unceremoniously stuffs him back under the covers.

"Stay." She commands.

He won't admit it, but he is tired. He is weak from his years in captivity and even the short walk to the garden had taken the wind out of him. It is frustrating to be so weak, to have to be doted on like a child.

Sakura touches his forehead. "I'll get you something to eat." She bits her lip. "And then I have to ask you something."

She spins away, hurrying from the room without another word. Shisui blinks and then leans against the pillows at his back. He thinks he knows what she will ask him.

He stares at the ceiling, thinking hard about the capital, Naruto, Sasuke, the Kingdom and his place in it. He had always been a General, a strong leader but it was never by choice and it wasn't something he enjoyed, sending men to die on faraway fields, under unfamiliar skies.

He can hear Naruto whining from here, smiles absentmindedly as he thinks.

The Capital has been his home since he was a child.

But too much has happened in the city walls, too much blood spilled and too many memories tainted by red eyes and cruel hands.

The door creaks open and he looks down from the ceiling, sees Sakura holding a tray. The smell of hearty, thick meat stew makes his mouth water and he can see the heavy bread from here. He smiles at her and knows what his answer will be.

* * *

"You won't stay?" Itachi asks again.

Shisui shrugs. They both know the answer to that. Naruto had good advisors in Itachi and Kakashi, and a loyal captain in Sasuke. Shisui has no energy left for fighting or politics in court, and he feels lost, looking at the familiar streets and faces.

No, a change of pace would be good for him.

Itachi smiles quietly, still leaning heavily on the cane Sakura and Tsunade had fashioned one day. His cousin will never fully recover from Madara, lungs far too weak for battle now, but Shisui thinks that Itachi doesn't mind. "I didn't think so." He murmurs.

Shisui grips his shoulder. Behind him, he can hear Sasuke and Naruto saying their goodbyes to Sakura. It is significantly louder and tearier than Itachi and Shisui's goodbye, with Naruto wailing about monsters and bandits. "You can always come with us."

Itachi looks wistful. "I'm needed here."

Looking up at the ruined castle behind them, slowly being repaired by the craftsmen of the capital, Shisui knows that to be partially true. "Not forever."

"No." Itachi agrees, following his gaze. "Not forever."

They fall silent, standing shoulder to shoulder. The capital is recovering, slowly but surely and Shisui is sure it will be as if nothing ever happened in a few months. With Naruto at the helm and the spirit slowly returning to the people, he doesn't doubt that the kingdom will flourish.

Finally, by unspoken agreement, they turn away from the capital. Kuro is waiting, nosing impatiently at the dappled grey mare beside him, reigns held fast by Kakashi.

Itachi is slower than he used to be, but then, so is Shisui. He doesn't think he will ever be as strong as he once was, but there are no more wars for him to fight in.

And truthfully, it is a relief.

He is sick of fighting and planning and plots.

Sakura mounts her horse, Marrella, with an easy swing of her leg. She settles on the docile animal, patting her neck. She smiles at Shisui, eyes gleaming brightly in the sunlight.

It has been months since Madara had finally died, but they have been kind to her. She has lost the hard edge to her mouth, the cold light in her eyes and the gauntness in her cheeks. Her hair is short again, like the day he met her, and her smile happy.

There will always be a slight darkness to her eyes, but she hides it well.

"Hurry up, slow poke!" She goads, voice excited.

Shisui thinks she has grown antsy, locked up in the walls of the city. She often told him how she wanted to run and play, and show him all the things in her forest, all the way in the West.

"You'd best hurry, or else she might steal your horse." Itachi teases.

Shisui pokes his younger cousin in the arm. "If you didn't have that cane…" He warns.

Itachi pushes him away with a jerk of his chin. "Go, before Sasuke ties you both up and refuses to let you leave."

Shisui can mount Kuro by himself again and his loyal steed prances, already excited to run.

Naruto is saying something to Sakura, while Sasuke holds her mount steady, mouth thin and eyes downturned to the ground. Beside Kuro, Kakashi watches quietly.

"They'll try and visit at every opportunity." The silver haired man tells him.

"I know."

Kakashi pats his leg. "Stay safe." He says, "Both of you."

"Perverts!"

"Ow!"

Shisui can't help but snort at the future king and his youngest cousin rubbing their heads pathetically and Sakura shaking out her hand in disgust. She glowers at them and snatches the reigns up, pulling the grey mare in a tight circle and trotting over to Shisui, Kakashi and Itachi.

"Idiots." She tells them primly.

"That hurt!" Naruto wails.

Kakashi sighs. "Lord help us all."

Sakura smiles fondly at the two men and then looks at Shisui, eyes bright with anticipation. "Are you ready to go?"

Shisui glances back at the capital, one last time. He knows he might have to come back one day, but for now, he is more than ready to leave. "Yes, I think so."

They say one last goodbye to the foursome of men seeing them off and then, begin their week long trek back to Sakura's forest.

The morning passes quickly, Sakura talking animatedly as she points out plants and flowers her mother had taught her to use as medicine. It confuses Shisui mostly and he can't often follow her line of thought, but it is nice, listening to her chatter.

They stop for lunch on the banks of the Nanako river and Sakura splashes around happily, pants hiked above her knees. The sight of her bare skin, wet with water is enough to distract Shisui long enough for Kuro to steal his apple.

He wrestles with his horse for a moment before Kuro tosses his head and Shisui's apple is lost to the dirt.

He sighs, and Sakura just laughs at him.

They don't spend long at the river bank, resuming their trek Westward as the sun wheels overhead. As they walk, Sakura guides Marrella closer. The horse is walking herself, only adjusting course when Sakura presses her knees against her sides. Meanwhile, Sakura's hands are busy at work, braiding the grey mare's mane into an intricate web of delicate braids and plaits.

There are no flowers this time, but Shisui watches her hands anyway. They are agile and quick, splitting the hair and winding so quickly it is hard to track.

"It's pretty." He says.

She gives him a narrow eyed look. "Marrella is not a war horse." She tells him. "She's a lady."

Shisui shrugs at her and they fall into a companionable silence. Sakura hums as she finishes the braid, letting it fall onto Marrella's neck with a gentle thump. Shisui admires the work, it looks lovely, and far more noticeable of the grey mane of Marrella than on Kuro's.

Sakura looks at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

Shisui opens his mouth-

\- and then, quick as a flash, she leans over and with one quick, deft movement, swipes his dagger from his belt. Marella prances a little from the strange movement and Sakura giggles, urging her forward with her knees.

Shisui puts a hand on his belt, narrowing his eyes. "That's mine." He tells her.

Sakura spins the dagger in her hand, eyes mischievous as she turns her mount in a mocking circle in front of him. "You can have it back later." She says, "Run, Marella, run!" She cries, and her horse does just that, lunging forward on powerful hind legs and tail snapping in the wind as she thunders across the open plain.

"Sakura!" He cries.

Kuro dances under him, snorting and desperately excited to chase. Shisui lets him go, urging him forward with a whispered encouragement and the strong black stallion raced after Sakura and her horse, long legs eating up the distance between them quickly.

Sakura's laughter catches the wind, delighted and joyful as they run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, so sweet.
> 
> ADORABLE.
> 
> I was going to have it end with Sakura and Shisui back in her forest, being visited by Itachi, but then I thought I liked this draft better. It leaves it open for interpretation. I might revisit it, like add a fluff scene but for now, I'm happy with how it stands.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who came back to read every time I uploaded and a big thanks to every person who reviewed! They all mean a lot and I'm glad so many of you enjoyed my story. It has some pacing issues, I know, but you all stuck it out and I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed this last chapter and that it was floooofy enough for you.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> The next story might take a bit - since I'm having trouble wrangling all the plot points into place, but it will be here and it will have teh sexy-tiems, teh bloods, Sakura turning people on by punching things and Orochimaru being a creeper.
> 
> One last thing - Marrella. Just google it. It's not gross, I just think its cool af.


End file.
